


All of Him

by littleotter73



Series: Something to Hold [3]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Community: summer_of_giles, Drama, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 05:18:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11525352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleotter73/pseuds/littleotter73
Summary: When an accident causes Giles to lose his memories, he only knows Buffy as the depressed Slayer he left back in Sunnydale after her resurrection six years ago, not as his wife and the mother of his son. Takes place five years after "Crossing Lines" and three years after "In the Moment."





	1. Hospital

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Written for Summer of Giles 2017  
> A/N 2: Many thanks to il_mio_capitano for the herculean beta effort! Special thanks to Quaggy, who helped flesh out a rampant plot bunny into a story late one evening over chat, and also to foreverbooks for the encouragement and sanity checks.  
> A/N 3: It is not necessary to read "Crossing Lines" and "In the Moment" before reading this story, but it is recommended as there are references to both stories within.

 

The beeping was incessant and not at all conducive to reducing the massive headache he was currently enduring. Or the throbbing in his right wrist for that matter. In fact, from what he could tell, most of him was quite sore. As he slowly wove through the fog fighting for consciousness, he tried putting the pieces together, but found no immediate reason to explain the reality that was dreadfully coming to mind.

 

He was in hospital.

 

Tentatively he opened his eyes, blinking them shut again against the light and groaned.

 

A hand grasped his left one. “Oh, Giles, thank god!”

 

Turning his head in the direction of her voice, he croaked, “What happened?” His mouth was quite dry and almost on cue, a straw met his lips and he took a sip of the cool water offered to him.

 

“You fell off the farmhouse roof and hit your head on gutter on the way down. There’s quite a nasty gash on the side of your head and your chest and sides are practically one giant bruise.”

 

That certainly explained the headache and why the rest of him felt like he’d been hit by a freight train.

 

“And you broke your wrist. The doctors had to perform surgery to set it.”

 

And there was the explanation for pulsing pain in his wrist.

 

“Are you hurting?”

 

He opened his eyes and glared at her. What a silly question. Of course he was hurting. He was lying in a hospital bed hooked up to monitors and an intravenous drip.

 

Buffy leaned over him and picked up a cylindrical plastic pump that was attached to a tube and placed it in his hand. “You can push the button here and it will administer the good drugs.”

 

“Did the Council bring you here? Or was it my meddling mother? Where is she by the way?” Giles asked icily as he gingerly repositioned himself in the bed and looked around the room. God, how he hurt.

 

“Y-your mother?” she replied, as confusion clouded her face.

 

“Must’ve been the Council, then. How long have I been been here?” he questioned, his voice terse with frustration and pain.

 

“Since you fell yesterday. They operated on your wrist and you’ve been pretty woozy ever since.”

 

“Didn’t waste any time getting you here, did they?” he muttered under his breath as he looked out the window into the gardens.

 

“Giles, what are you talking about? The Council didn’t send me and neither did your mother-“ she stopped herself. Something was terribly off.

 

“Then why are you here?” he snapped angrily. “Why are you not guarding the Hellmouth?”

 

Buffy was about to answer. With what, she didn’t know, but she was about to think of something when the nurse came in.

 

“Ah, good to see you are fully conscious, Mr Giles. I am just going to take your vitals.”

 

Buffy stood and squeezed his shoulder trying to convey her support. When he looked up at her in annoyance, she said, “I’ll… uh… go get some decaf. I’ll be back in a little while.”

 

“Take your time,” he replied flatly as the nurse placed the blood pressure cuff on his right arm.

 

—————

 

Buffy walked out the door and immediately leaned against the wall, her mind going a million miles an hour. Perhaps Giles was just hazy and confused coming to. It had, after all, been a pretty nasty fall. She’d been up in the nursery putting together the crib when she’d heard a scraping noise coming from the roof followed by Giles’ panicked yell as he fell. She had immediately run down the stairs and out the door, only to find him crumpled on the ground before her. Thankfully her mobile had been in her pocket and it had taken her about half a second to retrieve it and call 999 before falling to her knees not knowing what to do, but knowing that she shouldn’t move him for fear of causing more damage. Mercifully he had been breathing, but the sheer amount of blood gushing from his head wound and his unresponsiveness had given her quite the scare.

 

After getting herself under control, she headed down to the cafeteria and, before exiting the ward, she ran into Dr Gibson, Giles’s attending physician - _consultant_ as they called them here in Britain - she reminded herself. He was tall with steel grey hair and compassionate eyes. “Ah, Mrs Giles, I hear your husband is awake. I am heading to his room now. How is he?”

 

“I-I’m not sure,” Buffy answered honestly. “It could be that he’s… just a bit disoriented.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Well, he asked about his mother. She’s been dead for a couple of years now… and he just… didn’t seem to know that.”

 

“Hmm, well, disorientation can be normal when one comes to after a trauma like he’s experienced.”

 

“Yeah, he’s done the groggy thing before when he’s hit his head and come to. I’m probably just stressing.” She dug her hands into her pockets. “Pregnancy hormones and an injured hubby and all that.”

 

“Yes, well, make sure you eat something and take care of yourself as well. When he’s released, he’s going to need a little help and TLC.”

 

“Right!” Buffy stated with false cheer. Something was way off and she knew it. “I’ll just go and get a snack.”

 

—————

 

“Mr Giles,” Dr Gibson greeted amicably as he walked through the door. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Quite like hell, actually, but I am sure I would be better convalescing at home.”

 

“Well, before we can get you there, I need to run a few tests, and the orthopedic surgeon will want to run a post operative exam.”

 

“So it’s not likely I will be released today, is it?”

 

“Likely not.” The doctor’s voice held a note of apology. “Now, can you tell me about your accident?” he asked as he checked Giles’ pupil reaction time with the light from his otoscope.

 

“Buffy tells me I fell off the roof of the farmhouse.”

 

He continued with his physical examination. “Why were you on the roof?”

 

“I don’t remember,” Giles shrugged. He honestly didn’t know, but he could take an educated guess.

 

“With head injuries it’s natural not to remember the accident or what lead up to it.”

 

Continuing his thought, Giles mused, “The house needs a new roof. I suppose I was up there inspecting the neglect before I hire a company to replace it.”

 

“I see,” the doctor said as he checked the bruising on Giles’ side. He prodded a little too hard and Giles jumped and winced. “Sorry, just a little more,” he murmured as he prodded further down.

 

“The whole house is in disrepair,” Giles offered conversationally after a few moment’s silence as he tried to manage the pain. “It’s sat unoccupied for a long time since my grandmother passed. I’ve recently moved back from living in the States for several years and figured it was time to settle down.”

 

“Buffy tells me you live in Camden Town,” he challenged.

 

“Excuse me?” Giles replied in confusion. Gingerly sitting up in bed, he stated, “That’s… not correct. I have a flat in Bath.”

 

The doctor looked at him. He held out his index finger. “Please squeeze as hard as you can with your left hand.”

 

Giles complied, adding. “My employers are in London. Not Camden Town, but Westminster.”

 

“Good. Government?”

 

“Security,” he answered a little under his breath, releasing the doctor’s finger.

 

“Now, try to push down on my hand and I will try to resist.” While Giles did so, the doctor continued his line of questioning. “Does… Buffy work for them too?”

 

Giles blinked at the doctor. “In a sense.”

 

Dr Gibson removed the bandage on Giles’ head to inspect the laceration and stitches. “She’s been your constant companion since coming in. What is she to you?”

 

“She’s… a friend,” Giles stated with finality.

 

“Ok, Mr Giles, could you tell me who the Prime Minister is?”

 

He rolled his eyes at the line of questioning. The doctor was following the usual script for a head injury. “Tony Blair,” he answered.

 

“And the year?”

 

“2002. April 5th.” He turned to stare out the window. It was a beautiful day outside: sunny with blue skies and puffy white clouds, fresh green grass, and the trees were budding. Too jolly for his current mood sitting in hospital and brooding over a certain Slayer visiting him. He couldn’t figure out why she was here when she hadn’t taken his calls nor answered any of his letters. Yet here she was visiting him in hospital four months, two weeks, and six days after he’d left her and the gang back in Sunnydale. Not that he was counting.

 

Though just who did he think he was kidding?

 

Dr Gibson made notes in his charts before saying, “I am going to order an MRI of your brain to make sure everything is fine there and a nurse will come in to bandage your head again. Your… Buffy indicated that you have had a few head injuries before, including quite a severe blunt force trauma in 1999 when you were attacked by a jealous co-worker. Do you remember that?”

 

“Yes, that damnable Post woman. Hit me over the head with a wooden statue.”

 

“Are you prone to headaches?”

 

Giles wanted to heave a heavy sigh. “On those occasions when I have been researching too long, have eye strain, and am exhausted, yes. But then who doesn’t?”

 

“Do they happen often?”

 

“Not as often as they used to,” Giles replied. The lack of late night research sessions and waiting up for Buffy to check in after patrol had certainly helped in reducing the frequency of his headaches. But he was terminally bored out of his skull.

 

“Well, let us run some tests and see what’s going on up there.”

 

“Thank you, doctor.” Giles replied as he scooted back down in the bed. He was hurting and he finally pressed the button to release the pain meds into his system.

 

As his patient drifted off to sleep, Dr Gibson found Buffy standing just out of the line of sight from the door. He gave her a sympathetic smile and said, “Perhaps we should go talk in the family waiting room.”

 

Buffy braced herself for the worst. She’d returned just a few moments earlier to hear the earth shattering bomb that Giles thought the year was still 2002. Sitting down in one of the chairs, she patiently waited while Dr Gibson shut the door and sat down opposite from her.

 

“First of all, aside from his physical injuries, your husband is in fine shape, Mrs Giles. The orthopedist will want to inspect his wrist and she will be doing rounds shortly. Though the x-rays show that nothing is broken, his ribs and torso will be tender for a while. The stitches on his head will heal with minimal scarring and when his hair grows back it will cover what scar remains.”

 

“That’s the good news. Tell me about it being 2002.”

 

“Well, I have ordered an MRI, but my initial diagnosis is that he has post-traumatic amnesia caused by the head trauma. Most cases are temporary.”

 

“Most,” Buffy repeated warily.

 

“And there is no reason to think that Mr Giles’ condition won’t be temporary as well. My concern is for you. He believes today to be April 5th, 2002 and to him you are… friends.”

 

“To call us friends during that time would be… optimistic,” Buffy answered with concern. “We were estranged much of that year… and for a majority of the year following. It wasn’t until summer of 2003 that we started to grow close again and eventually…” she trailed off and turned her head to look out the window. “We have a little boy. Tommy. He’s three.” Tears started to well in her eyes.

 

“I can see that this will be difficult for you. I haven’t told him that it is 2008 yet. I wanted to consult with you on the matter first since he didn’t seem to recognize you as his wife. In order for him to regain his memories of the last six years, he will need gradual exposure to them.”

 

Buffy wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do about that, but her mind was racing a million miles a minute. “And what if he doesn’t recover his memory?”

 

“There are cognitive and occupational therapies that can help in memory retrieval, but we need to give his brain some time to heal and to try and make those associations on its own first.”

 

“When can I take him home?”

 

“I want to see the results of his tests.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“But to answer your question, the sooner the better,” Dr Gibson stated in a sympathetic voice. “A familiar environment might be all he needs to bring him back into the present.”

 

Smiling tightly, Buffy replied, “Hopefully.”


	2. Farmhouse

 

The drive back to the farmhouse was quiet and full of tension. Giles had not taken the news that it was actually 2008 at all well. When the doctor had left him alone with Buffy in the hospital room, Giles had even questioned her about the use of a time travel spell or whether he had somehow stumbled into an alternate universe. In the end, he had grumpily accepted the explanation that he had simply fallen off the roof while inspecting for hail damage after a particularly nasty storm, and considering the pain he was currently enduring, he was inclined to believe it.

 

Recognizing the roads leading to the farmhouse, Giles asked, “Why are we coming here?”

 

“Well, you sold the flat in Bath and it’s closer than driving all the way to London. Don’t worry, there’ve been some massive renovations. It’s nice and it will do.”

 

He thought briefly about his flat in Bath. He rather liked the place. While it was small and utilitarian, it had served as a refuge when he’d needed it the most. A place away from the Council and the constant reminder of duty and, of course, loss.

 

When they pulled up the drive to the property, Giles noticed the many changes done to the exterior of the farmhouse and its surrounding grounds. The garden had been tidied up and re-landscaped, a new roof had been installed sometime within the past six years, and an extension had been added onto the back and side of the original house.

 

“It… erm… it looks nice,” he stated for lack of anything better to say.

 

“Yeah, the inside is just about finished too. You had a vision and you and Xander executed it. Wait until you see the kitchen.”

 

“Well, anything would be an improvement on what was there,” Giles muttered, remembering the cramped quarters and ancient temperamental cooker. He remembered how his grandmother half-jokingly would ask for its cooperation every time she’d get ready to bake something, and he wasn’t entirely sure she was in the wrong to do so.

 

Buffy parked the car and came around to assist him out of the passenger seat.

 

“I  _ can _ manage,” he snapped pulling his arm inward when she opened the door to help him.

 

“Sorry,” she responded, trying not to let his crabbiness affect her.

 

Very gingerly Giles eased himself out of the car. His eyes swept the area and he noticed the blood stain on the flag stones by the right of the door. He noticed Buffy eyeing it in distress as well. “I’ll get that cleaned up.”

 

“You’re in no state-“

 

“I am  _ not _ an invalid.”

 

“No, Giles, you aren’t,” she replied patiently. “But you can’t bend over without your head throbbing and the muscles in your back and sides straining and hurting. Don’t worry about it. We’re expecting heavy rains overnight anyway.”

 

He huffed in resignation and they walked through the door and into the hallway. He looked around in amazement. The ground floor had been made open-plan with the removal of several non-load bearing walls. The decor had been upgraded to a more modern style that looked both functional and comfortable, and provided both a masculine and feminine touch to the home. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

 

“Not everything is finished yet, especially the upstairs” Buffy stated as she led him into the lounge. “Do you want anything? Some tea?”

 

Gingerly taking a seat on the sofa, Giles answered, “Tea would be lovely, thank you.”

 

Buffy made her way into the kitchen. She turned the kettle on and leaned against the counter with her back to the lounge. With the open floor plan, there wasn’t much privacy to be had and she didn’t want him to see her distress. She quickly wiped the tears from her eyes and braced herself against the emotional tide. The last three days had been entirely too stressful between the fall, the surgery, Giles waking up without his memories of the last six years, and then dealing with his annoyance at being released from the hospital into her care. She hadn’t told him that they were married or about their son. Based on his current irritation with her, she didn’t feel like he would be receptive to that information just yet.

 

When the water boiled, Buffy brewed the tea and brought in two mugs. “There isn’t a tea service here yet, so you will have make do with the mug. I think there are some biscuits in the cupboard-“

 

“It’s fine,” he interrupted as he took the offered mug from her. “Thank you.”

 

She sat down in the chair next to the sofa, giving him space.

 

After taking a sip, he visibly relaxed. “Tea’s good,” he stated with approval. She’d fixed it up perfectly with just enough sugar and milk to enhance the bergamot. “How long has the renovation been going on?”

 

“About a year. The addition was finished right before the winter weather arrived. Just above the kitchen is the new master bedroom with an en suite. There’s a soaking tub and I am fairly certain there are epsom salts up there if you want to ease your muscles.”

 

“Perhaps later. The house is… really nothing like I remember,” he stated in awe.

 

“You can wander around and take a look, if you want.”

 

His eyes closed under their own volition. He was tired and the pain medications made him drowsy. “I think I want to lie down,” he whispered.

 

“That’s a good idea. I’ll just go upstairs and get the room ready for you, okay?”

 

Giles made a noise that Buffy recognized as agreement and, taking his cup of tea from him, set it on the coffee table before heading upstairs. She closed the door to the nursery on her way to master bedroom. She didn’t want to explain the baby’s room just yet, and as they’d only gotten around to painting Tommy’s room the rich sky blue he’d asked for, it was safe to leave that room open.

 

When she finished changing the sheets, she brought down the dirty ones and tossed them into the washer before making her way over to the couch where she found Giles fast asleep. At least things were ready for him upstairs. She’d even checked the epsom salts and there was still half a box left in case he wanted to soak his battered body later.

 

—————

 

Unable to remain comfortable sleeping in the seated position, Giles opened his eyes and found Buffy napping in the overstuffed chair next to him, curled up under a blanket. She looked softer, more mature, and more at ease in her sleep than he had ever seen her. She had never been a sound sleeper in the time he’d known her, prone to the night terrors and prophetic dreams that plagued all Slayers. In those times when she had fallen asleep in his presence after a particular grueling patrol or late night research session, there had always been great tension in her body. But tonight she exhibited none of those tell tale signs of being a light sleeper. In fact, she looked as though a train could pass by the house and she’d remain fast asleep, and he bet that she hadn’t rested much while she waited in hospital for him. 

 

Watching her sleep, he wanted to know what had happened in the years he couldn’t account for: why she was here in England and not in California, why his plans for fixing up and selling the farmhouse had changed, and what happened to the rest of their friends? Gingerly he stood up and made his way to the window, pushing aside the curtains. The sun was setting over the old stables and he noticed that that building too was not in the disrepair it once had been. It was hard for him to make the leap. In his mind, it had been only two days since he had driven to the property to evaluate the damage and neglect and how much time and money it would cost him to renovate it. Now the passage of time was evident before him and, try as he might, he couldn’t conjure up any memories of the intervening years and it left him frustrated.

 

“Hey,” she greeted. Her voice sounded groggy and he turned to face her. “You hungry? I can make us some soup and sandwiches.” 

 

Buffy removed the blanket and placed it aside and Giles caught sight of her wedding band gleaming in the last of the sunlight as it streamed through the window. She was married and that revelation sent a shock through him. He should’ve been happy for her, that she had found someone she felt worthy of her, yet it bothered him somehow as he looked down at his own left hand and found his own ring finger bare. It wasn’t a surprise, really. He was better off alone, he knew. Dragging someone else into their world was unfair. But he couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling of sadness that he was still facing the world alone.

 

“I can manage. Don’t worry about me,” he said rather harshly as he looked out the window once again.

 

“If you are worried about inconveniencing me, Giles, you’re not,” she said. “I’m hungry too. Besides.” She tapped the cast on his right arm. “You’ve only got the use of one hand at the moment.”

 

He wondered about Xander and Willow and the others. Last he had heard, Xander and Anya had made it to the altar only to have Xander call the wedding off. Had they made up and gotten back together or had they moved on from one another? And Willow and Tara had had their own issues. Dawn had told him that they had broken up, but had declined to elaborate, just saying that they had disagreed over Willow’s increasing use of and dependency on magicks, something he couldn’t disagree with. He’d had concerns as well. But a lot could have happened in those intervening six years and he desperately wanted to know about his young friends.

 

Sighing in resignation, he asked. “How are the others?”

 

“By others you mean?”

 

He turned to face her. “Xander, Willow, and Dawn. Tara, Anya… dare I ask after Spike?”

 

“Xander and Willow are fine. The four of us are living London now. Dawn is working on her master’s degree in linguistics at Yale, studying under the renowned Doctor Winslow.”

 

His eyebrows raised in surprise. “Very impressive,” he stated. Not that he had any doubt in Dawn’s abilities, it’s just that she had been a young teenager lost without her mother and being raised by a group of young people who’d barely escaped their teenaged years themselves. He felt a pang of guilt. He really shouldn’t have left Sunnydale.

 

Buffy gave him a smile. She knew how pleased he had been when Dawn had been accepted to Yale and declared her major. Then, when the linguistics professor had recognized her knowledge and skills and taken her under his wing, Giles couldn’t have been more proud had he been her own flesh and blood.

 

“And the others?”

 

Her smile faded and she blew out a breath. “There’s no easy way to tell you.”

 

“Go on.”

 

“Tara died in May of 2002. A stray bullet struck her through the heart. Anya died in the apocalypse we faced a year later. Spike gave his life in that battle too.”

 

The news rattled him to his core. Tara, quiet and gentle, but full of strength, and Anya, his brash business partner who had never known quite when to keep her thoughts to herself, were both no longer with them. And Spike their reluctant, yet annoying ally… gone.

 

“I think… I need to… get a breath of fresh air,” he said, slowly making his way to the front door. Buffy moved to go with him, grabbing her sweater from the back of a chair, but he shook his head. “I don’t need a nursemaid, Buffy,” he said rather gruffly, opening the door and then closing it behind him.

 

“O-kay,” she murmured, refolding her sweater.

 

Giles had never been one to broadcast his feelings, however, ever since they buried their past grievances in the aftermath of Sunnydale, they had both celebrated and grieved together. Of course, the man who walked out to get some air wasn’t the man who had come back to help avert Willow’s apocalypse and reconnect with her, or the one who had spent nearly a year searching the planet to save as many Potentials as possible, nor was he the man she had constantly butted heads with and thrown out of her room only to make amends on the eve of battle. And of course, this Giles had never been her lover, her husband, nor the father of her son or to the child she was carrying.

 

And it hurt.

 

Glancing out the window, she watched him limp towards the stables and resigned herself to let Giles mourn their friends and deal with the news on his own. She needed to respect his boundaries if they were to get through this ordeal.


	3. Disconnection

It was a rather painful journey to walk the three hundred yards to the stables, but Giles made it, although winded and somewhat wrecked. His ribs hadn’t been broken in the fall, but they were bruised and it hurt to breathe. On top of that, everything was just sore, but he needed to get away, to leave the familiar yet unfamiliar house that had once belonged to his grandmother. He needed time to process that his friends had passed, had passed on years ago, even though for him it would happen in a future he currently knew nothing of, and he didn’t know whether to be angry or sad or frustrated or to mourn, or how to process any number of emotions stemming from the cloud of confusion that blocked his memories. 

 

Upon entering the stables, Giles heard a scurrying noise. Turning on the lights, he caught a glimpse of the back end of a silver cat escaping out a half open window. The stables had always had a barn cat or three when his grandmother lived here and as a boy he used to admire their independent natures. As he looked around the building in awe, he noticed that all the rotting wood had been replaced and the stalls had been cleared out of all the unwanted things that had been stored in them since his grandmother’s death. In fact, it looked ready for occupancy and he wondered if he was considering buying a horse. Keeping his injuries in mind, he carefully sat down on a wooden stool and tried to wrap his addled mind around all the changes.

 

The scale of the renovations had certainly been quite the endeavor, but they somehow didn’t seem very… him. His preliminary plans for the farmhouse had been a lot more modest than what he’d seen upon entering it earlier that day. In fact, he hadn’t been sure whether he wanted to fix it up enough to sell or renovate it with his personal preferences and eventually move in. Of course, whatever had transpired over the last six years had resulted in a really nice new addition to the old house and some lovely upgrades.

 

And then there was Buffy’s presence in this bewildering life of his, who was so different from the Buffy he knew, the one he’d left seemingly only several months ago so she could learn to stand on her own. Which was… quite possibly the stupidest decision he’d ever made because she was angry at him and not returning his calls. He sighed. The mix of the current present and what he thought was his present just were at odds with one another. 

 

Six years…

 

God, he hoped his memories would return soon.

 

—————

 

Giles walked through the front door and wiped his boots on the mat before leaning heavily against the back of the sofa. Buffy stood in the kitchen tending to the grilled cheese sandwiches cooking on the stove while a pot of soup simmered on the back burner. She balanced her phone between her shoulder and her ear and he caught the tail end of her conversation.

 

“I love you too, sweetheart, I promise to call tomorrow. Sleep well,” she said in a sweet voice (that unexpectedly grated on Giles’ every last nerve) before placing the spatula down on the counter and ending the call. 

 

It shouldn’t have bothered him that she was happily married. After all, It was what he’d wanted for her. But it did. And here she was, not home with her husband, but taking care of him because he had  _ no one _ . He wondered as to Xander and Willow’s current love lives, considering they had lost those they had both considered soulmates. Had they moved on to others? 

 

Giles watched Buffy let out a deep breath and quickly raise her eyes to look at the ceiling before placing her phone into her back pocket and returning her attention to the sandwiches.

 

Clearing his throat to let her know he was there, he stated with as much sympathy as he could muster without sounding bitter, “Go home to your husband, Buffy. I can manage.”

 

Buffy looked at him, trying to stem her emotions. She  _ was _ with her husband, but her little boy was at home with Aunt Willow and Uncle Xander, wanting to know when his mommy and daddy would be returning to him and she couldn’t give him a proper answer other than “soon.” This certainly wasn’t the expected outcome to the simple getaway weekend she and Giles had planned to work on the finishing touches to the house.

 

“It’s fine, Giles, trust me. I want to stay,” she said, avoiding his gaze by keeping her eyes on the sandwiches in the pan.

 

“Didn’t sound that way to me.”

 

And there was the bitterness. She stole a look at him. He’d hunched his shoulders forward and furrowed his brow with annoyance and self-loathing. After placing the sandwiches on the plates, Buffy walked over to Giles in the lounge. She took his hand and raised her head to gaze into his eyes.

 

“Please know that I am where I want and need to be right now,” she said gently. “Trust me. We’ll get through this. I know you are frustrated, but the doctor said these things take time. Your brain needs time to make those connections again. Your memories  _ will _ return.”

 

“And if they don’t?” Giles pulled his hand back from hers and placed it into his pocket. “What then?” He was challenging her to make it better.

 

Buffy grimaced at his reluctance to accept her comfort, and she had to remember that this man before her wasn’t her husband. He was her estranged Watcher, and that was one of the main reasons why she didn’t want to think about him not regaining his memories. It was certainly a possibility, but she wasn’t ready to deal with that as a reality just yet.

 

Opting for a response that was positive and full of reassurance, she replied, “Let’s see what happens over the next few days, okay? That noggin of yours must be made of steel because nothing keeps you down for long. Now, dinner is ready. I know I am starved and you haven’t touched any real food for the last couple of days.”

 

“You couldn’t call what they put in front of me at the hospital, food,” he grumbled, accepting her distraction for what it was.

 

“All the more reason to tuck into the comfort that is grilled cheese and tomato soup,” she said as she went back into the kitchen and started to ladle the soup into bowls. There wasn’t anything much simpler or more satisfying that the meal she’d just prepared, and it was one of his favorites. He would occasionally make the same for her on those evenings when she showed up hungry on his doorstep after patrol.

 

They ate in relative silence because neither felt comfortable speaking. By the end of the meal, Giles’ frustrations finally got the better of him. “I don’t even know what to say to you!” he complained rather forcefully. “I know the doctor said not to rush things, not to fill in the gaps, but this is…”

 

“Giles, I get it. Okay, I do.”

 

He stood and picked up his bowl and plate and took them to kitchen, placing them in the sink. “No, I don’t think you do.”

 

Buffy followed him into the kitchen with her dishes. “Okay, then let’s sit and talk about it.”

 

Shaking his head, Giles turned to her and regretfully replied, “I-I can’t right now. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

 

“Okay…” It was the best she could offer, as she swallowed the painful lump rising in her throat. “But I am here when you need to talk,” she said, watching him retreat into the lounge.

 

—————

 

After Buffy had washed the dishes and tidied up the kitchen, she went in search of Giles, eventually finding him sprawled out on the bed in the master bedroom in the dark, fast asleep. Taking the extra quilt from the linen closet, she covered him up and lightly kissed his forehead, not wanting to wake and startle him. She then grabbed a pair of old sweats and a t-shirt before heading into the master bath to ready herself for bed.

 

It took all her energy not to let her emotions overwhelm her and sob like a baby. She needed Giles - her Giles, not I’ve-left-you-for-your-own-good Giles - and try as she might to be understanding of the situation, it just seemed wholly unfair that they would be thrust back into a situation where they could not communicate. After Sunnydale, they’d spent quite some time working to move beyond their past grievances and trust the other enough to finally admit their feelings for one another. The emotional rollercoaster of reconnecting while they were rebuilding the Council in a version that was acceptable to them both was, at times, overwhelming.

 

She’d fight for him this time too if she had to, but dear god, it was all too much at the moment: the fear at finding him knocked out cold on the flag stones with his blood oozing everywhere, wondering if she’d lose him, and then finding out that he’d suffered a nasty knock to the head and had a broken wrist that required surgery. Those injuries she could live with. She could bring him back to the farmhouse for a couple days of recovery before taking him home again. Home to their son. But then to find out that he had no memory past April 2002, and that there was a chance, albeit a small one, that the memory loss could be permanent was far too much stress than she felt she could deal with, and yet, she really had no other choice.

 

So Buffy took a deep breath, washed her face, brushed her teeth, and changed into the clothes that served as pyjamas. Slipping back into the bedroom, she tiptoed past the bed to the door, intending to sleep on the couch downstairs in the lounge.

 

“I’m sorry,” Giles stated into the darkness, his voice holding a sincere note of apology.

 

Buffy nearly jumped out of her skin. Turning towards him, she whispered, “It’s okay, Giles, go back to sleep. We can talk in the morning.”

 

“We could talk now,” he invited, his voice a little weak and groggy as he shifted over to his side of the bed and carefully raised himself up to a sitting position, giving her space to sit down.

 

“I’m tired. It’s been a long day. No, scratch that, it’s been a long couple of days.”

 

“I am sorry,” he repeated, his voice smooth and soft, and she closed her eyes to the gentleness of it. “I certainly didn’t mean to give you a scare and I don’t mean to come across as ungrateful.”

 

Buffy accepted his apology and took his invitation to sit, situating herself against the backboard with a couple pillows for comfort. “I know,” she said with a heavy sigh, leaning her head against his shoulder and let out a little sob. 

He took her hand in his and gently squeezed it in support while she cried, feeling like a cad for his callous behavior earlier. His situation was hard on her too. When she quieted down, he reached to hand her a tissue from the side table, but found she had fallen asleep against him. With the greatest of care, he rose from the bed and moved her into a prone position while trying not to wake her or jostle his injured wrist. He then placed the quilt over her.

 

It amazed Giles how alike she was to the Buffy of old, but quite unlike she was to the Buffy he knew… well, the one who had been pulled out of heaven, the one who had come back to a life of Slaying and a life where she had to run a household and raise her little sister. It wasn’t fair, but it was life, and he’d tried his best to connect with her and help get her back on her feet. And, ultimately failing, he’d given her a cheque to cover the plumbing repairs and a few month’s bills, wrapped up his business in Sunnydale, and retreated to England.

 

Now she was twenty-seven, content with life, strong and vibrant, and some lucky man’s wife. He wondered if she still was the Slayer or whether Faith had been released from prison and taken on that mantle or if the younger Slayer had died and another called. It was clear that with Buffy living on this side of the Atlantic, she no longer guarded the Hellmouth. Whether she still actively patrolled, he did not know, but something within him told him he doubted it.

 

This Buffy was happy, despite her concern for him, and Giles was happy for her. It was what he’d wished for her: a life that she could choose… and a life in which he still played some role. He wasn’t forgotten… or hated. It was clear she had some affection for him.

 

Buffy mumbled and shifted in her sleep and he placed a soothing hand on her shoulder. She quieted down immediately and he affectionately caressed her cheek. “Sleep well, Buffy,” he whispered before removing himself from the bedroom and finding his way back down to the lounge where the new sofa, while comfortable, didn’t seem all that inviting to sleep on. It would have to do, however. He was exhausted, and there really was no other avenue available to him. At least there was a blanket he could settle himself under, and he stretched out his long frame as best he could before closing his eyes and willing sleep to come.


	4. Tommy

 

Buffy woke from a deep sleep with an uncomfortably full bladder. Such were the joys of pregnancy, especially a second pregnancy. The rain beat hard against the window panes and, reaching across the bed, she found herself alone and a little confused. She was certain Giles had been comforting her before she drifted off to sleep. Perhaps he’d gotten up to take more pain meds? Lord knew he had to be hurting with all the trauma his body had taken as a result of falling off the roof and bouncing himself off the ground.

 

Having taken care of her immediate need, she went looking for him and found him tossing and turning on the sofa in the lounge. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and whispered, “Hey, Giles.”

 

He turned his head to look at her before awkwardly rolling himself back onto his side to face her. “What time is it?”

 

“Two in the morning. You okay?”

 

“Never better,” he grimaced, trying to ignore the pain in his wrist and gash along the side of his head. Finding a comfortable position to sleep was next to impossible.

 

Of course she knew better. No amount of head injuries could ever put a dent in Giles’ ability to use and abuse sarcasm. “When was the last time you took your meds?”

 

“With dinner.”

 

“You’re way overdue,” Buffy replied. “We need to make sure you stay on schedule.” When he moved to get up, she bid him to stay and went to the kitchen to get him a glass of water and his pills. Upon her return, she found him sitting up and he gratefully took the glass and the medicine from her. She took the seat next to him on the sofa.

 

“Thank you,” he stated quietly. “What are you doing up?”

 

“Call of nature,” she replied. “That and I got lonely.” She gave him a shy smile.

 

“Nothing says you have to stay here, Buffy. I’ll be fine on my own. I can stay on top of my meds.”

 

“We’ve been over this, Giles…” She let out an exasperated sigh and leaned back against the cushions.

 

“I suppose we have,” he relented and placed the glass down on the coffee table before settling himself back against the cushions and turning to look at her. “Perhaps Willow or Xander could come out and take a shift or two. It shouldn’t be all on you.”

 

“They are busy at the moment,” she answered with finality. “So you are stuck with me.”

 

Giles closed his eyes. The heavy rain pelting the glass had a hypnotic effect on him as the pain pills kicked into effect and the grogginess started to set in.

 

“Feeling some relief?” Buffy asked.

 

“Mercifully,” he answered as his body relaxed.

 

She stood up and took his left hand in hers. “Then let’s get you back to bed, Mister. “

 

“Buffy, there is only the one bed and I cannot take it from you,” Giles said, allowing himself to be pulled into an upright position, but refusing to stand up. 

 

“Sure you can. You are injured and you can’t heal on a sofa that is too short for you to stretch out on and isn’t wide enough to properly turn on.”

 

He opened his eyes and blinked, sure the light was playing tricks on him as his mind tried to make sense of the slight swell of her stomach beneath the singlet she’d worn to bed. He hadn’t noticed it before since she was wearing a baggy flannel shirt she hadn’t bothered to tuck in.

 

“No… no… I insist on you having the bed,” he urged unable to take his eyes off her profile.

 

“Giles-“

 

“Buffy, you are… you are with child. You need your rest and-“ he stopped his protesting, his eyes solely on hers now. “You’re pregnant,” he stated in amazement, a small smile curving up at the corner of his mouth. He instinctively reached out to place his palm against her belly, but flinched back with a sense of  propriety.

 

Another milestone for his remarkable Slayer.

 

“Yeah,” she answered softly, a serene smile gracing her lips. “Baby number two. You can touch if you want.”

 

“Two?” He asked, his face open with wonder as he allowed himself to place a shaky hand on her tummy. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around the miracle and wonder that she’d overcome the challenges of her calling to create that normal life she had always wanted. He was so proud of her, he thought his chest might burst.

 

“Tommy.” Her face beamed when she said his name. She looked positively radiant. “He turned three last month.”

 

“Tommy,” Giles whispered, trying to fathom the incredible changes that happened over the last six years.

 

“Yeah, quite the little firecracker.”

 

“Do you… do you have a photo?” He asked, leaning back against the sofa once more.

 

She smiled up at him and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Yeah, let me get my phone. I have a great one I can show you on there. He was at daycare at the Council and I had gone down to get him so we could have lunch together. We stopped by your office on the way and well… I’ll let the picture tell the rest of the story.”

 

Giles shook his head as she stood to retrieve her phone. “There’s a daycare in the Council buildings? Quentin must’ve gone soft and mad in his dotage.”

 

“Quentin died late 2002,” she answered when she returned. “The new Head of Council decided to set one up to make things easier on the younger generation, especially after I became pregnant with Tommy.”

 

“Amazing!” he stated. “I see you have a good rapport with him or her.”

 

“The best,” she said with a wink before sitting down next to him again and searching the gallery for the photo she was looking for. “Ah-ha!” she exclaimed and passed the phone over to Giles.

 

He squinted down at the picture of the little blond boy with sylvan green eyes as he crawled over the large  _ Vampyr _ tome that was sitting on his desk and barked out a laugh. “It looks as though you are raising a little Watcher there.”

 

“He seems to think so.”

 

“He’s… he’s perfect,” he murmured, totally captivated as he studied the child as best he could with tired eyes. “He looks just like you, well, except for the nose.”

 

“He’s smart as a whip too,” she boasted, not wanting to give too much away. “He can already read a little and he’s a whiz at patterns and puzzles.”

 

“Tommy,” Giles repeated with reverence. “My father’s name was Thomas.”

 

“Yeah, you might’ve mentioned it before.” Buffy watched Giles in profile as he stared down at the photo again and traced the little boy’s cheek on the screen, hoping that maybe he would make the connection on his own. 

 

He turned to look at her. “Of course, I must’ve done. I am sorry, this is very new for me,” he apologized before handing back her phone.

 

It was hard trying to hide her disappointment, but she did her best by distracting herself and placing her phone in the pocket of her sweats. “I know, I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean for that to come out… well, rude.”

 

“It didn’t. I just…” He stifled a yawn. “It’s late, Buffy, and I find my eyes crossing and things slipping out of focus.”

 

She stood and offered her hand again. “Come on, let’s get to bed.” He started to protest. “Uh uh! I am pulling rank as your w-… Slayer. We’re sharing the bed. That sofa is good for sitting, not sleeping.”

 

“What about your husband?” He asked half-heartedly as he stood, taking her hand.

 

“He trusts me,” she said with a little smile. “Now move it!”

 

He did as he was commanded and she trailed behind him because he was doing his best drunk impression as he navigated the stairs. The last thing she needed was to take him back to the hospital with yet another head injury.

 

—————

 

Buffy woke the following morning more than a little disappointed to not wake up in her husband’s arms. He faced the window away from her and was still sound asleep according to his breathing pattern. Not wanting to disturb him, she quietly rose and headed down to the kitchen to start breakfast. She would make sure to turn the kettle on when she could hear him stirring upstairs.

 

Giles woke to the smell of bacon and eggs and his stomach growled to protest its empty status. His body ached along with the expected pain in his head and wrist, and he longed to take a hot pulsating shower to ease his muscles. Unfortunately, he knew that wasn’t something he could do at the moment with his head stitched together and the cast on his wrist. He did try to freshen up a bit in the bathroom when he spied the new soaking tub with the jets and sighed longingly. That would certainly help the sore muscles issue, however, his stomach rumbled and he decided his campaign to be breakfast first, then pain meds, then the bath.

 

He wasn’t exactly graceful on the stairs, his heavy footfalls announcing his approach, and Buffy came out of the kitchen to greet him.

 

“Good morning.”

 

He groaned in response.

 

“That good, huh?”

 

“I feel like hell,” he muttered, gingerly gripping his side as he lowered himself onto a dining room chair.

 

Buffy couldn’t help but noticed the similarity to his recovery after the beating he’d taken from Willow in the Magic Box all those years ago. Of course, to Giles, that incident hadn’t happened yet, but he’d spent a week recuperating at her house before taking Willow back to England with him to see to her rehabilitation at the coven. It had been hard to watch him then, all bruised and battered and exhausted from the borrowed magicks. He’d been a terrible patient, but he certainly had been appreciative of her and Dawn’s help. Now, however, the situation was worse.

 

“I bet. How about some tea and some food, followed by some meds?” she asked.

 

“Sounds marvellous.”

 

Tea was Giles’ cure for everything and he raised an appreciative eyebrow before taking the mug from her. He closed his eyes to the soothing elixir as it warmed his insides and by the time she brought in his plate of eggs and bacon and his course of medications, he had finished a third of the mug.

 

“Thank you,” he said sincerely.

 

Giving him a warm smile, Buffy changed the subject. “After you finish we should change the dressing on your head and then get you into that tub with the epsom salts. Are you okay for a few moments?” she asked, and when he nodded, she popped outside into the garden to fill the bird feeders that had been neglected for the better part of a fortnight since their last trip to the farmhouse.

 

Giles had found that the eggs were surprisingly good, although he shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d helped her in expanding her cooking knowledge after her mother had died. Before she, herself, had died. Before Glory had taken her away from him. Before she came back and everything between them had fallen to shit and he was left with no other recourse than to leave… God, he wanted to stop this line of thinking, but his brain refused to stop running down that particular rabbit hole.

 

Trying to cut the thick bacon with his fork, Giles found it was too thick and he became increasingly frustrated before he threw down the utensil, dumped the remainder of his breakfast in the bin, and stalked back up the stairs.

 

—————

 

Buffy found him in their bedroom trying to pull off his shirt in his irritation. “Everything okay?” she asked with a knock to the doorframe.

 

Giles jumped at her intrusion. “Is there no privacy around here?” he growled.

 

His reproach startled her and she backed up towards the doorframe. “Sorry,” she stated. “When I came back in and didn’t find you in the kitchen, I just worried-“

 

“Well, don’t!” He yelled, finally able to yank his shirt off his frame, but the sleeve got stuck on his cast.

 

Buffy winced at the bruising on his chest and sides. “Let me draw you a bath.”

 

“I can  _ do  _ it,” he snapped through gritted teeth as he forcefully pried the shirt off around his cast.

 

“I know you can!” she shouted back. Schooling herself, she replied in a more civil manner, “But you don’t  _ have _ to.” Brushing past him with a glare, Buffy went to prepare his bath. The sound of the water rushing into the tub and echoing through the bathroom helped to calm her down some. As long as she was able to  _ do _ something, she could cope.

 

Giles stomped over to the bed and eased himself down. He hated being weak and injured. He was supposed to protect her, guide her. Being weak and injured prevented him from being his best for her. He’d always kept the severity of his injuries over the years from the gang. Oz had been the only one who really knew of his suffering at the hands of Angelus. Xander had rescued him, but Xander had a way of closing off the worst and avoiding the things he couldn’t cope with. Giles supposed it had been the only way he’d dealt with his parents’ alcoholism and abuse, but Oz had been able to see things in ways the others had not and, over that terrible summer, he’d been the one who would double back after dropping Willow and Xander off at their houses and help with the little things Giles had been unable to do himself.

 

Now it was Buffy tending to his needs.

 

He’d never wanted her to take care of him. It wasn’t her job, nor was it her responsibility. She was the Slayer. Saving the world was far more pressing and he didn’t need her distracted and fussing over a Watcher with a predilection for bumping his head. Of course, now she wasn’t actively patrolling, but she was a mum to a little boy and another child on the way.

 

And really, she  _ should _ be focussing on her family, not him. The fact that Tommy didn’t have his mother about because of him, really didn’t sit at all well with Giles. It started to bother him at a primal level, even though Buffy was adamant that everything was fine and that Tommy was enjoying time with Aunt Willow and Uncle Xander. 

 

But what unsettled him more was that, underneath it all, he was jealous. Jealous of the fact that Buffy had a family and he was still seemingly single. Jealous that there was this beautiful little boy who clearly was her joy in life when he had given up on having a family of his own. He’d pledged his life to ‘his Slayer’ upon his finishing his studies at the Academy and again once she’d been identified. It wasn’t required of Watchers, but it was something he felt he had to do. His notion that he was her champion, that he would do anything to protect her, drove him to expect more from himself. It was his promise to her when she’d been Called that he would see to it that she lived longer than the others before her and he knew he couldn’t do that if he belonged to another, if his attentions lay elsewhere. Of course there had been the occasional distraction: Jenny, Olivia, and Kristen when he’d returned to Bath the first time. But in the end, he was devoted to Buffy. She always came first.

 

And so he couldn’t help but feel some dark, conflicted betrayal, that she had moved on from their Calling and he was now relegated to bachelor friend and possibly distant uncle to her children.

 

And yet, he’d always wanted her to have that normal life. He’d always wanted her to be happy. And here she was, positively radiant. He shouldn’t be having these sorts of thoughts. Letting out a heavy sigh, Giles looked out the window while he waited for the bath to fill. He had no right to be jealous. Buffy had never made such a pledge and he’d never required one of her. All he’d ever asked of her was to do her duty to the best of her ability and she’d always done that in spades.

 

He heard the water shut off.

 

“It’s ready for you. If you need anything…” Buffy said as came out of the bathroom without looking at him. 

 

“I’ll shout,” he answered softly, his voice penitent.

 

She heard the change in his tone but couldn’t deal with his mood swings at the moment. “You can turn on the jets with a touch of the button near the faucet. There are two settings. I suggest the first one until those bruises heal,” she stated still without looking at him as she moved to the bedroom door. 

 

“Right,” he replied as he stood up and lumbered into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

 

Buffy quickly made her way down the stairs, out the door, into the refuge of the garden, disturbing a silver tabby cat who sat on the patio table watching the birds at the feeder. It gave her a disgruntled glare before jumping down and making its escape into the garden. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Buffy sat down in a chair and tried to put the the incident with Giles behind her.


	5. Friction

 

After toweling off and getting dressed in the clothes he’d found laid out for him on the bed, Giles decided to see what changes had been made to the upstairs of the house, knowing the new master was an add on over the kitchen. As he walked down the hall, he checked out the bedroom with the sky blue walls. It was an odd color choice, certainly not one he would make on his own, but it was cheery. The bathroom between the two smaller rooms had been modified to serve as a shared bathroom with doors opening to both rooms, and the former master sat empty with no enhancements that he could see.

 

The second spare bedroom door was shut which was curious because the others were not. He knocked on the door, wondering if Buffy had found her way in there and when there was no response, he opened the door to peek in. He was surprised to find the room decorated in a soft green with white trim. There was a glider with matching upholstery, a small dresser, and a half built baby cot.

 

An understanding finally dawned: the house was not his anymore. The renovations were for Buffy and her family. He must’ve given it to her as a present - perhaps as a wedding present, or a present upon retiring from her role as an Active Slayer. Which was… fine. Better than his initial thought six years ago to sell it. At least this way it stayed within his adopted family, but now, as he came to this realization, being in the house made him feel like an intruder.

 

Looking out the window, he saw Buffy working in the newly created vegetable garden, the waterlogged soil yielding the intruding weeds to her as she prepared the beds for planting. He’d been harsh and she’d borne the brunt of his frustration and anger with his current situation. He’d had no right to direct his ire towards her. He was dealing with so many unknowns and so many issues, not just his jealousy, his injuries, and his inability to recall the last six years, but also his anger at leaving her and her complete inability to communicate with him from the moment he’d returned to her after her resurrection. Of course, for her, the latter was ancient history, clearly water under the bridge, but because of his impairment, it was still something quite raw for him, and he needed to apologize.

 

Conceding that his emotions were a jumbled mess, Giles sought to distract himself and he sat down on the floor next to the furniture hardware and took a look at the cot’s assembly instructions. It didn’t look particularly difficult to put together and he assumed that Buffy must’ve been working on it when he had fallen off the roof. Despite the cast on his right arm and his otherwise limited mobility, Giles made quick work putting the cot together and was quite pleased with himself when he maneuvered it into position against the wall.

 

But it was painfully obvious to Giles that he didn’t belong. This was Buffy’s house. The baby’s room, the very blue room that clearly would become Tommy’s new room, and the modern and female touches in and around the house indicated just how much the house was not his anymore.

 

He would never have entertained the idea of expanding the house to put in a large, modern kitchen and create a new master bedroom and bath with a whirlpool tub and walk-in shower with multiple heads. For Giles, living space was utilitarian. He only ever needed a functioning kitchen, a bedroom and a spare for guests, a couple bathrooms, and a study. A library wouldn’t be remiss either, but it certainly wasn’t necessary. He’d done quite well without the extra amenities in his little flat in Sunnydale, despite his home being regularly invaded by the group of young adults he’d come to think of as his family.

 

And now he was invading her home, her intimate spaces… sleeping in her bed and using her bathroom. It wasn’t right.

 

Sighing heavily, he checked the garden again and found Buffy still tending the beds. He needed to find a way to remove himself from the house and let her get back to her family life as soon as possible. Heading down to the ground floor, he figured he had to have a way of contacting Xander and Willow. Perhaps he had their numbers in his wallet, which he was pretty sure was in the bag with the things that came home with him.

 

He found his mobile phone first and after scrolling through the address book, eventually found a number for Xander and placed a call. After making with the pleasantries and several attempts to try and convince his young friend to pick him up and take him back to London, Giles started to lose his patience.

 

“Xander, really, it’s not fair all this falls on Buffy’s shoulders. I  _ can _ manage. If you could just provide her with a day or two of relief and allow her to spend time with her son-“

 

“I’m sorry, Giles, I just can’t break away at the moment. Listen, I promise everything is fine. Willow has Tommy for the day shift and I have him for the night shift. And Tommy is fine with it. Buffy calls him every night to tuck him into bed and say goodnight. Really, he’s fine.”

 

Giles shook his head. “What about his father? When will he be home?”

 

“That’s… a little complicated,” Xander answered.

 

Giles was not pleased. Were Buffy and her husband having issues? And if so, what could possibly keep a husband and father from his pregnant wife and his child? Was the reason for Buffy moving into the farmhouse due to a separation from her husband? He didn’t want to presume, but something was off.

 

“And before you ask, Willow is working on a witchy project with the Coven. Thankfully they don’t care when she actually does her work, so the shift coverage works out; but I promise, if this goes through the weekend, we’ll make sure Buffy gets some Tommy time, okay? For now, though, you are stuck with the Buffster. I wish I could help out more-“

 

“Alternatively, I could come and stay with you. I don’t need a minder all hours of the day. I put together the cot in the baby’s room this morning, for Christ’s sake.”

 

“You did? That’s pretty awesome!” Xander praised, pleased with his friend’s progress. “But, Giles, don’t be ridiculous. Your doctors are there. You have appointments to go to. Coming back to London right now doesn’t make sense. Besides, it’s quieter there. Take the time to heal properly. You have that luxury now, unlike when we were all living on the Hellmouth.”

 

His irritation with the situation getting the better of him, Giles, yelled, “What in god’s name is more important than family, Xander? That little boy needs his mother!”

 

“Okay… I get that you have  _ no _ idea what is going on right now-“

 

“I wonder  _ why _ that is?”  he growled through clenched teeth. “No one will  _ tell _ me anything!”

 

Xander ignored him. “I understand that makes you all frustrated and grrr, but it’s not going to change the current situation, so don’t  _ yell _ at me!” he barked back much to Giles’ surprise. “I have been a part of Tommy’s life since he was born. We’re his  _ Village _ : Willow, me… and Dawn, even if she’s the Yale part of the Village. He trusts and loves us and is in perfectly capable hands. And when I tell you that Willow and I can’t break away, you have to take my word that we just can’t leave at the drop of a hat and come to get you, that it’s not because we want to keep them apart or torture you to spend time with your… Slayer. So just suck it up and deal!”

 

Between Xander putting his foot down and the fact that he was not included in the list of members of Tommy’s Village (with a capital V), Giles reeled back and stuttered out an apology before ending the call. When he turned around, he found Buffy in the lounge, filthy from gardening, with her arms crossed over her chest.

 

“I… uh… thought I would ask Xander to give you a break.”

 

Buffy shook head angrily. “You know, I get I was kind of a crappy substitute mom for Dawn for a while, but I got better at it! I assure you, I am  _ not _ pawning my son off onto Xander and Willow just to play hooky here and have the privilege of taking care of  _ you _ !”

 

He tried to shove his right hand into his pocket, but the cast on his arm prevented him from accomplishing his task and he instead dropped it at his side, “Buffy, I am sure you are a wonderful mother. I just-“

 

“Look, I know you don’t want my help. You don’t even want me  _ here _ . And I even get you don’t like me very much-“

 

“It’s not that…” Giles replied, trying to bring some civility to the conversation.

 

“It is. You are pissy with me.”

 

“Yes, fine. You are right, I am angry!” he admitted, raising his voice in response. “And I am fairly certain I absolutely have no right to be angry with you, but I am all the same… and, and having you here isn’t helping anything!”

 

Buffy’s eyes widened with hurt. She stepped back and swallowed her pain. She had to remember that this man was not her husband. “I am sorry you feel that way, but you are stuck with me until you are better.”

 

“So everyone tells me!” They stared at one another, at an impasse before he looked down at his feet. “Let me go home, Buffy, back to London,” he suggested, his voice calm and his anger tamed.

 

Channelling her resolve, she stated, “You know I can’t. We’ve talked about this. Now, sit and let’s get a look at that head. At the very least you need a clean dressing.” She wasn’t going to take any more crap from him. 

 

He sat down obediently at the dining table while Buffy went to the kitchen to wash up and grab the first aid kit. He wasn’t going to win and he had to accept that. When she returned, she tended to him very gently as she removed the bandage. The gash on his head was closed up with fifteen sutures, but he had blood crusted in his hair and along his scalp and a bruise that extended from just behind his right temple to just over his ear. Thankfully the swelling had gone down significantly. 

 

“It looks good. Better than I thought it would,” Buffy murmured. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

 

While Giles sat quietly, Buffy retrieved a towel, some soap and a bowl full of lukewarm water to clean the wound area per his doctor’s instructions. He hissed a few times at the pain and she apologized, but otherwise he didn’t complain while she cleaned him up and bandaged his head again.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Tomorrow morning, I’ll help you wash your hair.”

 

“It is a fright, I am sure.”

 

“You look fine,” she answered reassuringly, placing her hand on his shoulder. “A little beat up, but handsome as ever.”

 

Giles turned his head in response to her compliment, but she’d already tidied up the mess and returned to the kitchen. When she returned, she brought his pills and a glass of water and he took them without issue. The gash along the side of his head had started to ache again and his wrist was throbbing. Perhaps in putting the cot together, he’d attempted too much. He was also fairly certain his vigorous attempt to convince Xander to spring him from house arrest and his arguments with Buffy hadn’t helped either.

 

“Whenever you want to talk, we can,” Buffy suggested, her voice soft after they took a seat on the sofa. “I can’t imagine any of this easy.”

 

“No, it’s not.”

 

“I’m trying to be patient and understanding,” she explained. “It’s hard when we’re not in the same place.”

 

He nodded. “I wish I could remember.”

 

“You will,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “We both just need to be patient.”

 

Giles looked down in surprise as her thumb lightly stroked along his. “It’s not easy.”

 

“No, it’s not,” Buffy agreed. “For what it’s worth, I missed you when you left Sunnydale… and not just because I needed a helping hand. I truly missed you.”

 

“I’ve missed you too,” he replied, his heart feeling a little better. “And it is worth quite a lot.”

 

“I know it bothered you that I never called or wrote. I was angry and I wanted to show you that I could do it on my own, but I made a real mess of things, and when everything was falling down around me, I was too embarrassed to call.”

 

“I never meant for you to not reach out when you needed an ear or a friendly shoulder, Buffy. My leaving wasn’t meant to be an abandonment.”

 

“I know. It just felt that way.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

 

He removed his hand from hers and placed his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. “As am I, Buffy. As am I.”


	6. Come What May

 

Over the next two days, Giles still felt mostly uncomfortable staying in the house with Buffy. The sleeping arrangements were especially awkward, and every time she phoned Tommy, Giles needed to leave the room. The guilt he felt at keeping them apart was almost too much for him, and he was painfully aware that she never spoke about her husband… or if she did, she did so when he wasn’t around.

 

His frustration at being unable to remember anything gnawed at his very being, but he tried to maintain a positive façade when he was around Buffy. He understood he needed to give his brain some time to heal so the memories could return, but he was impatient and he could tell his limitations were taking a toll on her as well. When she thought he wasn’t looking, he could see the sadness and frustration reflected in her face and posture and it just added to his sour mood.

 

He found her in the baby’s room, staring out the window into the garden just before they were due to leave for his doctor’s appointment. The soft, diffused morning light shone through the gauze curtain, highlighting her serene features. She wore a light pink and white checkered flannel shirt open over the white long sleeve tee that accentuated the slight rise to her pregnant belly. In that moment, Giles’ heart leapt within his chest. He’d never seen anyone more beautiful in all his life.

 

The intense reaction took him by surprise and he wanted to flee. Buffy was his Slayer, his partner… or she had been before she jumped from the tower. He wasn’t sure what she was to him now… after her resurrection and him leaving her… and, of course, the six years following those events. He’d never entertained the idea of anything more between them, yet now when he saw her bathed in the morning glow, he suddenly he wished he could hold her in his arms.

 

Buffy turned towards him, a slight smile donning her face. “This room gets the best light.”

 

Giles nodded. “It does,” he agreed as he leaned against the doorframe, trying to look nonchalant and clearing his throat. “I never asked,” he began, tilting his head to the side. “How far along are you?”

 

“Just shy of four months,” she answered, her smile widening as she unconsciously cradled her belly with her right hand. She simply glowed and he tried to slow the beating of his heart.

 

He did the mental math. “Late September or early October then?”

 

“Yeah. Late September, but you never know. Tommy was a week and a half late.”

 

“I-I am told babies have their own schedule.”

 

“A bit of an understatement. After taking his own sweet time, he’s been on the go ever since, making up for that extra time on the inside, I guess.”

 

“I suppose he keeps you on your toes.”

 

“He does. I am sure this one won’t be any different.” Buffy pointed to the finished crib. “When did you do this?” she asked.

 

“The other day,” he answered. “It needed finishing.”

 

“Thank you,” she said reaching out and placing her left hand on his forearm, her wedding ring reflecting the sunlight streaming in through the window.

 

Giles pulled away and rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand, unaware of Buffy’s grimace at his recoil. The reminder that she was another man’s wife struck him hard in that moment and he tried to curb his feelings. “It was… It was the least I could do, having been boorish, ungrateful, and generally pissy,” he stated.

 

Buffy turned to look out the window again. “We’re both struggling. I wish there was something I could do to fix it.”

 

Placing a supporting hand on her shoulder, he said, “We’d best be on our way and see what the doctor has to say. Perhaps there is something he can suggest to help matters along.”

 

She looked up at him, opting for some levity. “Short of another knock on the head?”

 

“That only happens in the movies,” Giles answered as they headed down the hallway together.

 

“I knew it was too good to be true,” she replied with a laugh. “And here I thought there had to be some perks to being a Slayer dealing with a pissy Watcher, but sadly, no.”

 

“I’ve taken enough beatings from you over the years, thank you very much,” he said primly, taking her teasing in good stride, the corners of his mouth upturning in a smile.

 

“My poor, poor, Giles,” she teased in a sing-song manner.

 

Giles groaned inwardly. Hers. Yes, he supposed he was. Unfortunately, she wasn’t his, not in the way he wanted her to be. And that was starting to become a problem.

 

—————

 

Buffy sat out in the waiting room while Dr Gibson performed a physical check of Giles’ injuries. Even though she’d tended to those injuries back at the farmhouse, it seemed like an intrusion on his privacy to sit in on his time with the doctor. Had he had his memory intact, it would’ve been a different story, but to Giles and his broken memory, she was just his Slayer and someone who hadn’t spoken with him in close to six months.

 

When she did join them in the exam room, she sought Dr Gibson kind eyes for reassurance while he brought her up to speed. “I am quite pleased to report that physically Rupert is healing quite nicely, and we’ll be able to remove the sutures in his head early next week.”

 

“I will schedule it ahead of the follow up appointment with the orthopedic surgeon that’s already been scheduled for Monday,” Giles added conversationally.

 

“He still needs time to rest and to heal,” the doctor said conversationally. “And remember to keep to a schedule with the medications I’ve prescribed. I do suggest to continue to keep an eye on him, and because of the medication, and his broken wrist, I don’t want him driving.”

 

Giles shifted in his chair, not happy with that bit of information. It kept him dependent on Buffy for a lot longer than he anticipated and it kept her from her family.

 

Dr Gibson shifted his attention to Giles. “So, Rupert, how are those memories coming along?”

 

“Not much progress to report at this time, I’m afraid,” he answered ruefully.

 

“Nothing?” Dr Gibson asked with a grimace as Giles shook his head. “I see. I was hoping your home environment would trigger some memories.”

 

Giles shifted in his chair. “Ah, you see, that might be part of the problem. The farmhouse… it… isn’t my home. It never really was. It belonged to my grandmother and it’s recently been renovated.” His eyes rose to meet Buffy’s before turning back to address Dr Gibson. “Quite frankly, nothing is familiar other than the basic surroundings. The decor isn’t really… me. It’s very inviting, don’t get me wrong, and there are many elements I like, however, it’s more… suited towards… a family. I think it best I go back to wherever I am hanging my hat these days.”

 

“Well, while I would prefer you to be in a familiar environment,” Dr Gibson began. “London is a bit far and I would rather not transfer your care to another doctor at this time.”

 

Suddenly an idea took hold in Giles’ mind and he sat forward in his seat to address the doctor. “I’m not sure why I didn’t think of this before but my mother lives an hour away. I could stay with her,” Giles suggested. “That way I am not monopolizing all of Buffy’s time and keeping her from her family.”

 

She turned to him with a sympathetic look. “That’s not… it’s not an option, Giles, I am sorry.”

 

“Buffy?” He searched her face, hoping that her answer would be one that didn’t lead to where his mind was already headed.

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, reaching out and taking his left hand in hers.

 

His pale green eyes welled with tears and he tried to reign his grief in as he took a deep cleansing breath. “When?”

 

“Two years ago.”

 

He sat back into his seat stunned, swallowing around the lump of emotion, unable to form any words. Buffy moved and knelt in front of him.

 

“I am so, so sorry, Giles,” she murmured, placing her hand on his knee. She knew how hard his mother’s death had hurt him the first time and she looked over at Dr Gibson, who excused himself from the exam room to allow for them to have some time.

 

“How?” he asked as he stood up to give himself some distance to grieve.

 

Buffy raised herself from her kneeling position and answered, “She went peacefully in her sleep. It was just her time. There wasn’t anything anyone could’ve done.” He didn’t say anything. He just stood there with his back to her and she wanted to go to him and hold him like she had done the first time, but he’d closed himself off. “She was so happy in those last years, Giles. The two of you were so close and she was  _ so _ proud of you.”

 

The shaking of his shoulders and the barely audible sob did her in and she strode over to him and wrapped him in her arms.

 

He allowed himself a moment of comfort before extracting himself from her embrace. “Funny, the last memory I have is of her giving me the lecture of a decade and me storming out insisting I was right,” Giles finally choked out between clenched teeth, his tone full of regret. “And I… can honestly say… I wasn’t.” He stood and headed for the door. Turning his head slightly, he rasped, “We are done here. Take me home… or back to the farmhouse, wherever. I don’t care.”

 

“Giles-“

 

He didn’t say anything more, just opened the door and left her standing in the exam room. On her way out, Buffy apologized to Dr Gibson and said they would see him next week. She found Giles standing by the car and hit the button on the remote to unlock the doors. He got in and slammed the door and she took a deep breath before climbing in.

 

She was about to put the key in the ignition when Giles muttered, “I can’t…” He let the words trail off. There were just so many things he  _ couldn’t _ do and they all stemmed from the fact that he had absolutely no memory of the last six years. And the more he learned, the more dreadful those last six years seemed to be. Now it was the loss of his mother and he just didn’t know how to cope with any of it.

 

Dropping her hands to her lap, Buffy swallowed thickly. “I know. I’m sorry.”

 

“I’m so very, very tired.”

 

“I’ll get you home.”

 

The drive back was awkward in its silence. Giles stared out the window and Buffy didn’t know what to say to him. When they returned to the farmhouse, Giles sat quietly in the seat after she turned the engine off.

 

“Do you want to talk?” she asked after a few moments.

 

“Not particularly.”

 

“Okay…”

 

They were both silent, sitting there, staring straight ahead, neither knowing what to do or what to say. Comfort seemed so far away. Buffy felt helpless in her inability to provide him with any solace. He just needed time, she supposed, but it was just so hard to watch him struggle with his confusion and his grief.

 

“I need to go shopping,” she stated, finally breaking the silence. “We’re out of… almost everything.”

 

Giles nodded. “I’ll go have that lie down, then,” he said, thankful for the time alone.

 

“If you need anything…”

 

“I’ll ring your mobile.”

 

“Okay.”

 

When he moved to get out of the car, Buffy put her hand on his knee to stop him and he craned his neck back to look at her.

 

“I… I really am so very, very sorry,” she finally said. “Your mum-“

 

“Thank you,” he interrupted, shutting down any sort of discussion about his mother. “I’ll see you for dinner, yes?”

 

Buffy swallowed harshly. “Yeah. Anything in particular you’re craving?”

 

“No,” Giles answered, shaking his head as he exited the car. “Surprise me.”

 

She watched him leave and let himself into the house before allowing her tears to fall. Quickly wiping them away and getting herself back under control, she whispered, “I love you,” and drove away.

 

—————

 

“Hey, Wil, it’s me,” Buffy greeted into her phone, sitting outside the store in her car.

 

“Hey, you!” Willow replied excitedly. “How are things? Is Giles remembering things yet?”

 

“Uh no… very much no.”

 

“Oh… I am sorry.”

 

“Yeah, there is a lot of that going around right now.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“A lot of sorries. Sorry, not making much sense… See? Another sorry.”

 

“Yeah, I get it now,” Willow answered, although Buffy was fairly certain she probably didn’t.

 

“It’s just that today I had to break his heart and tell him his mother passed away two years ago.”

 

“Oh. So very much not of the good.”

 

“Nope. He’s taking it about as well as he did the first time, only this time around he’s doing all the grieving on his own and I am not allowed to hold him or comfort him in anyway.”

 

“Yeah well, he doesn’t know you are all couple-y,” Willow pointed out.

 

“True, and right now he’s all sorts of weirded out by the fact that we are actually friendly and are talking. God, I hope his memory kicks into gear soon. I miss him so much.”

 

“It will.”

 

“I know,” Buffy answered, trying to regain her positive nature.

 

“Hey, you didn’t want to talk to Tommy right now, did you? Because he’s sorta napping.”

 

Buffy smiled at that. Tommy never really napped. He just went a million miles per hour until he passed out, which, thankfully was around his usual bedtime, but he was usually willing to play quietly in his room for about an hour. “It’s okay. I’ll call him tonight before bed,” she said before taking a deep breath. “Hey, Wil, do you think you could do me a  _ giant _ favor? And I know you are already doing a giant favor by taking care of the little guy for us, but-”

 

“Sure, Buff,” Willow interrupted. “Whatcha need?”

 

“Can you bring me Giles’ diaries? Watcher and personal. From the time of my resurrection to today. His Watcher ones ended before Tommy was born, but he still keeps a personal journal.”

 

“Are they in his home office?”

 

“Yeah. His latest journal will be in the top left drawer of his desk. The others are on the bookshelves. He dates them on the first page and no doubt will be in chronological order.”

 

“Sure, no problem. So you’re thinking these will help?”

 

“Doc says he needs something familiar to trigger the memories and I can’t take him home right now. I mean, he’s not the guy who fell in love with me yet. How can Giles be a husband and a dad if he’s still dealing with all the bad stuff from before, you know? And, besides, I’m not exactly sure he really likes me right now.”

 

“He’s always loved you, Buffy.”

 

“But he’s not  _ in _ love with me. We’re just miles from where we were, and I need him to…” Her throat constricted with a silent sob. 

 

“He will be,” Willow reassured her. “I’ll track down the diaries for you.”

 

Buffy moved the phone to her other ear and wiped the tears from her eyes. “Do you think you could bring them out this way tomorrow?”

 

“No problem, but I’ll have Tommy with me. Xander is in meetings all day and I don’t want to ask Laura to watch him. Our relationship is too new and he doesn’t really know her.”

 

“No problem. It’ll do me some good to see him,” Buffy said with a longing sigh. “We can meet at the park around one.”

 

“The one by the school?” Willow confirmed.

 

“That’s the one. There’s a great playground there.”

 

“Sounds perfect. Tommy misses you guys too, you know.”

 

“I know. It’s so hard to be away from him, but he won’t understand that his daddy doesn’t know him, and he’ll want to do all those things he does with Giles. And I know Giles would be kind and understanding, but… it’s just one more thing for him to come to terms with. I don’t know if he could deal with an extremely active three-year-old who wants to get into everything and know everything  _ right now _ while he is trying to recover from a broken wrist, an ugly scalp laceration, and trying to figure out what’s happened to him over the last six years.”

 

“I get it, Buffy,” Willow replied.

 

“I know. Thanks for listening. And being there. And keeping Tommy for us.”

 

“No problem. We’ll see you tomorrow. It’ll be good for you and Tommy both to get some time together and we can hang out on the playground for a bit and chat. You could use the break too.”

 

“I know it’s a lot to ask…”

 

Willow made a raspberry noise over the phone. “Stop that! We do what we have to. We all love Giles, Buffy.”

 

“I know, thanks, Wil, and thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

After the call, Buffy sat in her car for a few minutes to decompress. She had a plan. Maybe it would work. Maybe it would be the spark that her husband needed to get those brain synapses firing again. And if not, then at least Giles would be caught up with his life and they’d take it from there… come what may.


	7. Acceptance

 

After entering the farmhouse, Giles tossed the key Buffy had given him and his wallet onto the coffee table and went in search of a can of the Italian soda Buffy liked to drink. If he weren’t taking strong pain medication, he might have been in search for something stronger, but he knew better. Self-destruction wouldn’t get him anywhere.

 

Easing himself down on the sofa, he popped the tab and took a healthy sip of the blood orange soda before setting the can down on the coffee table and leaning back, raising his eyes towards the ceiling. Buffy had told him his mother had been proud of him, but during their last meeting that he remembered, she had been anything but. In fact, she’d told him he’d disappointed her, having abandoned his Slayer in her time of need. She’d even called him a coward.

 

And she’d been right. His excuses had sounded thin even to him. Buffy had called him on his bullshit and his mother had seen right through it too, and it had been his own self loathing, wounded pride, and embarrassment that had kept him in Bath instead of rushing back to Sunnydale and admitting he was wrong. Oh, he had hoped that Buffy would have bounced back quicker when she didn’t have him as her safety net to dump her problems and responsibilities onto, but he knew that things hadn’t been progressing as he had hoped. Dawn and Tara had filled him in on most of the issues, though he could tell they both had edited strongly for content, neither refusing to break Buffy’s trust.

 

His heart was heavy and reached for his wallet to pull out the picture of his mum. He’d always carried a picture of his parents with him since going up to Oxford, but now when he opened his wallet, he found a photo of his mother that he hadn’t seen before. She looked older than he remembered, her hair whiter and the lines around her eyes and mouth deeper. She still looked strong and vibrant, and Giles sighed softly as he studied her gentle, caring face. He couldn’t believe she was gone. There had always been that part of him that believed she would live forever - or at least outlive him. He was the Watcher to the Slayer, after all, and willing to die for her. 

 

His mother had always been his constant when he’d found himself without direction and hope and she had been the only one who could reach him after that dark time on the streets of London… after Eyghon and Randall. 

 

After his father’s sudden death in the late 80s, Giles had been there for her, helping her through her grief and depression, moving her out of the London home she had shared with her husband for thirty-five years and back to the West Country where she’d grown up. She raised dogs, two horses, and a yard full of chickens. She also tended her garden, grew vegetables, harvested fruit from her trees, and dabbled in artistic endeavors. She’d didn’t like to be idle and she’d made the most of her life after her husband had passed on. Giles visited as often as he could until he was sent to Sunnydale. Unfortunately, his tenure on the Hellmouth had decreased the amount of contact and communication he’d had with his mother over those years, and the last contact he’d remembered them having, they’d quarreled and both had said unkind things.

 

Unable to contain his emotions, Giles finally allowed the tears to come. When he finally managed to get himself back under control, he noticed the lateness of the hour and started to worry about Buffy. She should’ve returned with the shopping by now. Placing the photo back into his wallet, he noticed another photo peeking out of one of the pockets. Pulling it out, he smiled softly at the scene. Buffy was holding Tommy at six or seven months of age as he stood on her lap. It was clearly a candid shot, and they were both facing one another with big smiles on their faces. Buffy was positively radiant and the baby had two fingers stuffed in his mouth, grinning around them, looking adoringly at his mother with his fine, downy, blond hair sticking up in all directions.

 

Giles couldn’t help the tiny tug of the bittersweet smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. It was a beautiful shot of mother and son… of Buffy and Tommy, and he couldn’t help the flood of emotions that immediately overwhelmed him. He’d seen how much pride and love she had for her little boy when she’d shown him the photo of little Thomas crawling over the  _ Vampyr  _ book. Seeing Buffy with the baby, well, he didn’t quite have the words to match the feelings he was currently experiencing, but he knew at least one of those emotions was very dangerous, and he didn’t want to have to acknowledge it anymore than he already begrudgingly had earlier in the day.

 

Turning the picture over and on the back, Giles noticed the words “Buffy and Thomas September 2005” in his handwriting. He wondered why he would carry a photo of his Slayer and her son. Why not one of all the gang? Why had he hidden this photo of them behind the one of his mother? 

 

Suddenly the answer seemed to be staring him in the face. Somewhere in the last six years he’d fallen in love with his Slayer. It was that simple. The feelings he was experiencing for her were not new ones, but they were feelings he couldn’t acknowledge publicly because Buffy was now someone else’s wife… and a mother.

 

He leaned back into the sofa and let out a sigh. The only silver lining he could see in all of this was that at least if he were experiencing these feelings again, then perhaps it wouldn’t be too long before his memories followed. 

 

—————

 

Buffy returned home with more bags of groceries than she’d intended to buy. The house was quiet, though Giles wasn’t usually one to make a lot of noise unless he was working on some home improvement project. Although, after Tommy was born, Giles constantly had music playing throughout the house, so she had gotten used to the fact that it never was entirely quiet, except after the baby went to sleep. Music was something extremely personal to Giles and he wanted to share it with his son. Occasionally he’d even break out his guitar and serenade the two of them. Now that Tommy was a toddler and was extremely well spoken for a young three-year-old, he’d even join his father singing along to a song he knew. Of course, Giles never played the traditional children’s music, so Old MacDonald and the Teddy Bears’ Picnic and the like were songs Xander and Willow insisted on teaching Tommy.

 

Buffy sighed morosely. It was hard to be optimistic in the wake of such an injury. Giles had none of these happy memories and it sucked that he had no idea that they had fallen in love and had created one super cool little human being together.

 

“Anything I can help with?”

 

Buffy nearly jumped out of skin. She’d been so caught up in her thoughts and putting away the shopping that she hadn’t heard him approach. “God, skulk much?”

 

Giles barked out a laugh. He hadn’t heard her speak that way in a long long time.

 

“Not funny,” Buffy groused, shoving the milk into the fridge and closing the door a little harder than usual.

 

“I’m sorry,” he replied, trying to school himself, but failing miserably.

 

His smile was infectious and she rolled her eyes, letting him know she wasn’t really mad at him.

 

“Can I fetch more bags from the car or help with anything else?”

 

Leaning against the counter, Buffy looked at him pointedly. “Nope. Everything’s in and it only took two trips! Besides, you’re in rest and recovery mode, mister.”

 

He shrugged. “I am feeling better and would rather not be entirely useless.”

 

“I get that. Maybe tomorrow you could put together the changing table,” she suggested.

 

“Yes, I’d like that.”

 

“You hungry?”

 

“Starved.”

 

I picked up some take away.” Pointing the bags, she elaborated, “Kebabs.”

 

“Perfect.”

 

“So, how are you holding up?” she asked pulling out a couple Italian sodas for them. 

 

He grunted non-commitally.

 

“Blood orange or lemon?”

 

“Lemon.”

 

She opened the can and placed it on the table before pulling glasses and plates down from the cupboard while Giles removed the boxes from the bag and started serving.

 

“Smells wonderful,” he stated, sitting down at the table.

 

“I got you your usual.”

 

“My… usual?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

 

Buffy sat down “Yeah, the mixed kebab with rice.”

 

“We do this often?”

 

“Sometimes. But you don’t really mix it up when we do Turkish. I got the baba ganoush too.” They sat quietly eating their dinner before Buffy dared to broach the subject of his mother. “I know you really don’t want to talk about it, but I just wanted to say that I got to know your mum quite well. She was simply amazing. I loved her very much and I miss her too,” she said gently, hoping to draw him out and share his grief.

 

She was right, Giles didn’t really want to talk about his mother, but he also didn’t want to be rude, so he set down his fork and replied, “She always wanted to come out to Sunnydale to meet you, but circumstances never quite allowed for her to visit,” he replied. “But I always imagined she would have loved you on sight.”

 

“She did and the feeling was mutual.” Buffy smiled sadly and looked across the table at him. “I am  _ so, so _ sorry, Giles.”

 

Her gentle, watery gaze contained genuine concern for him. It touched him deeply, and he slowly shook his head to look away and to keep the tears from forming again. “I am fairly certain the world wasn’t ready for the two of you being in the same place. What a pair you made, I am sure,” he finally said after steadying his emotions.

 

Buffy gave him a tight smile. She wanted to assure him that his memories would return, to elaborate on how much she loved his mum and how much joy his mother took in having her son and grandson near, but she held her tongue and they finished their dinner in a melancholy silence. 

 

—————

 

After dinner Buffy had given him his space and he’d puttered about with a sort of nervous energy. He seemed restless at times and listless at others. He didn’t want to take his pain medication when it was time, citing he was feeling better. Buffy knew him well enough to know that by not taking the pills he was punishing himself for arguing with his mother. Without his memories, he had no recollection of their reconciliation or the closeness they’d shared over the years.

 

Buffy found Giles in the bedroom later that evening getting ready for bed. He’d already changed into the sweats and t-shirt he wore to sleep in. “Hey,” she greeted.

 

“Hi.” His reply was a little awkward and shy as he stared at the bed and ran his left hand through his hair a couple of times. “I… I am not really tired at the moment. I found a book in my bag that I have no recollection of having started or having read before, so I think I am going to go downstairs and read for bit.”

 

“It’s been an emotional day, Giles, why don’t you just come to bed?”

 

It was the way she had said it, as though she said something similar to him every night, intimate in its nature and rolling off her tongue without a thought as to how it might come across to him. He walked over to the bag, dug out the book, and raised it to show her. Some sort of spy thriller from the looks of it. 

 

“I will come back up when I am ready,” he answered before walking over to her and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, but holding her at a distance. “Thank you for dinner and putting up with me,” he said gently. “Get some sleep. You need your rest.”

 

Her concerned eyes searched his. “So do you.”

 

“And I will. I just… need to distract my thoughts for a bit with a little light reading.”

 

Buffy nodded. “Sure. Come up when you feel tired.”

 

“I will.”

 

Only he didn’t. Giles tried to make himself comfortable on the sofa after his tired eyes refused to let him read anymore. He couldn’t sleep with her next to him after having acknowledged his feelings for her earlier and he wasn’t sure how he would manage to avoid sleeping next to her in the coming nights, but he’d figure something out. His wrist ached and at some point during the night he relented and got up to take his pills, eventually succumbing to the narcotics and sheer exhaustion.

 

Upstairs, Buffy tossed and turned fitfully through the night, waking every few hours, unable to sleep for her worry for him.


	8. The Weight of the World

 

Buffy came down the stairs and found Giles asleep on his side, sprawled across the sofa. He didn’t look very comfortable, trying to fit his six foot one frame on the couch as one leg hung over an armrest while the other was tucked up beneath it. His book and glasses were neatly placed on the table before him, which indicated that he had decided not to come up to bed after finishing his read.

 

She made her way to the kitchen to make some tea and toast. Part of her was angry that he hadn’t come back upstairs to sleep, but the other part of her sadly understood. He just wasn’t comfortable sharing space with her, and the bed was the most intimate of all places. She tried not to get upset, but the logical side of her was rapidly losing out to the emotional side. She missed her husband. She missed her son. And she missed how they were a happy family.

 

Giles padded into the kitchen, his left hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Good morning,” he greeted as he stifled a yawn.

 

“Hey,” she responded with little enthusiasm.

 

Noting the flatness in her tone, he asked, “Everything all right?” He placed a teabag in a mug and drained the kettle over it before sitting down next to her at the breakfast table.

 

“Fine.”

 

“Between all the time I have spent with you, Willow, Anya, Tara, Cordelia, and many other women in my life, I know that ‘fine’ when combined with that tone means anything but. Would you like to talk about it?”

 

“It’s really not something you need to worry about, Giles.”

 

“All right,” he stated, getting up to fetch the milk and sugar for his tea.

 

“I’ll take the couch tonight,” she said taking a bite of her jam and toast.

 

“Buffy-“

 

“No, I’m shorter. I actually fit on it.”

 

He sighed as he toyed with the handle of his mug. “I still think we need to rethink this… arrangement. Perhaps we should head back to London. I can recover at home. We can both sleep in our own beds and you can drive me back here for my appointments next week, if you like.”

 

She looked up at him, weariness reflecting in her soulful green eyes. “We can think about that for the weekend, but I’ve arranged for some furniture to be delivered tomorrow. A few nights on the sofa isn’t going to kill me.”

 

“Fair enough,” Giles replied. He wasn’t sure how she would react to him suggesting going back to London and since it wasn’t met with a negative response he took that as a win. “Is a bed coming with that delivery?” he asked jokingly.

 

“Actually, yes,” she answered and a look of hope came over his face which quickly fell when she explained, “But it’s much less suitable than the sofa. Tommy wanted something fun for his room, so we got him this castle bunk bed type of thing.”

 

“That sounds like it will be fun. I might have to test it out first, make sure it is suitable for a lad of three,” Giles teased, giving her a wink over his mug as he sipped his tea.

 

Buffy laughed as she imagined Giles asleep on the top bunk of the red and blue canvas covered, castle bunk bed, long limbs poking out of portal windows and at the corners. “That’s quite the mental image,” she giggled. “Thanks for that.”

 

It did his heart good to see her smile and laugh and he wanted to do everything he could to keep her happy. “Will I need to put this monstrosity together?” he asked when she got herself under control.

 

“No, I paid extra to have delivery guys do it. It looked way more complicated than the baby’s crib and I didn’t feel like tackling it.”

 

“I see.” There was a hint of disappointment in his voice.

 

“I just figured with everything… that we didn’t need to add any more stress to our situation here.”

 

“I suppose it’s for the best.” Giles stood, placed his empty mug in the sink, and stretched. “On that note, I think I’ll head up and get dressed for the day.”

 

“Giles,” she said, wanting to allay his disappointment. “That wasn’t meant… it wasn’t…” She huffed in frustration.

 

“I know you didn’t mean anything by it, Buffy,” he reassured her. Attempting to keep the civility between them, he reached out and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It would’ve given me something else to do, that is all,” he explained. “Admittedly, I am getting some cabin fever. The distraction would’ve been good and we’ve always worked well putting furniture together, if you’ll recall.”

 

Buffy looked at him, the hope within rising that maybe he had remembered something recent.

 

“When you helped me put together the new bookshelves in my apartment back in Sunnydale or when we put together the new weapons cabinet in the training room, we managed to do so without the clichéd squabbles.”

 

She couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that he didn’t remember when they had put together all the furniture in Tommy’s nursery in London. “Yeah,” she said, trying to sound upbeat. “We make a good team.”

 

He smiled. “We do.” And for the first time in a long time, since before she’d jumped from the tower, he felt that was true.

 

Buffy spent the rest of the morning going for a quick jog and working in the vegetable gardens again. She was able to plant some seeds for beans, peas, cucumbers, and tomatoes before it was time to grab a shower and leave to meet up with Willow and Tommy. 

 

Giles spent the morning with his nose in another book. He wasn’t all that interested in it, but there wasn’t much choice there at the farmhouse. He wasn’t able to go on a jog with Buffy and he only had one useful hand, so digging in the dirt and helping her in the garden wasn’t really practical, but he did spend a few minutes outside soaking up some sun and talking with her while she planted seeds.

 

After Buffy finished showering, she found Giles in the kitchen munching on an apple. “You’re going to be okay here on your own? I mean I could drop you off at the library for a few hours or something to relieve you of the cabin fever,” Buffy asked as she was getting ready to leave house to meet Willow and Tommy.

 

“I’ll be fine. I promised to put a changing table together and since I’ve puttered the morning away, I should get a start on it,” he answered. “And when I finish that, I’ll probably go for a walk around the property, inspect the fences, that sort of thing.”

 

“How’s the general bruising and body pain?”

 

“Better. The bruises are moving into the bluish-green phase and the trauma part of the achiness is mostly gone, now it’s a matter of stretching and moving, I think.”

 

Buffy trusted his judgment on that. He’d had enough experience over his years as field medic to her and the rest of the gang, as well as dealing with his own injuries, to know what he needed physically. “And the wrist and head?”

 

“The wrist is still painful, but managed with medication. The stitches are getting to the itchy stage and the area around them is still a bit tender, but it’s not bothersome.”

 

“Okay, but the meds make you drowsy, so if you go for a walk, please take your mobile with you.” Even though it was a statement, it came across more as an ask.

 

Giles was touched by her concern. “Of course. So what errands are you running?”

 

Buffy picked up her purse and looked over at him. “It’s a surprise,” she answered with a wink. “But something for you.”

 

Unable to resist, Giles smiled in response. “All right, then. I shall anxiously await your return.”

 

Their exchange had been reminiscent of so many others they’d shared as a couple. The ease with which they communicated and the affection behind their words hinted at the intimacy that they shared. Buffy, in a momentary lapse of judgment, walked over to Giles, wrapped her arms around him, and rested her head against his chest. He initially stiffened at the contact before awkwardly gathering her in his arms to return the hug. 

 

Realizing her breach of propriety, Buffy blushed and looked up at him. “I… uh… best be going. I-I am glad you are feeling better.”

 

“Erm… of course,” Giles replied, not really wanting to let her go after he had relaxed in her embrace. It was gentle and warm and loving and so unlike the desperate, life affirming hug they’d shared in the Magic Box when he’d returned to Sunnydale and had indeed found her alive. He’d scarcely allowed himself to believe it after Willow had phoned, but there she had been, beautiful but broken and looking at him as if he was the answer to her prayers… only he wasn’t.

 

He let her go, a bit of color staining his cheeks as he stepped back and shoved his left hand into the pocket of his jeans, but her dark green eyes held his paler ones for a heartbeat too long.

 

“I… uh… I should be home in a few hours,” she called behind her as she grabbed her purse off the table and closed the door behind her.

 

He thought he might have imagined it, but the way she held him in her arms and placed her ear over his heart and the way she looked up at him made him think there was more to their relationship than just friendship. It felt as though there was a familiar intimacy between them. However with his memories gone AWOL, his emotions a jumbled mess, and his feelings for Buffy deepening with every passing moment, he chalked it up to misinterpretation and the stress they both were under.

 

—————

Buffy wanted to kick herself. Hugging Giles and being held by him in return just made her miss her husband even more, but he had seemed more himself this morning… other than wanting to sleep apart from her, of course. But their interactions had felt less forced. He was more comfortable and he was more solicitous of her feelings, even attempting to console her.

 

Turning the engine over, she decided there was nothing she could do about it at that moment, but maybe when she returned with his diaries, he would start to regain his memories, and if not, then at least come to an understanding of his life in the present. They needed to move forward, and if they needed to come to decisions concerning their life together, at least he could do it armed with the knowledge of the last six years. For now, there wasn’t anything else to be done but try to relax and spend the next couple hours with her son and best friend.

 

When she pulled into the car park near the playground, she saw Willow and Tommy waiting for her by the bench next to the walkway. Willow pointed out her car to the little boy and he waved enthusiastically, and Buffy felt the tell tale prick of tears welling in her eyes.

 

“Be strong!” she berated herself, as she smiled and waved back before finding an open spot to pull her car into. 

 

When she approached the bench, Tommy broke free of his Auntie Willow’s hold, jumped down from the bench, and ran towards his mother’s open arms yelling, “Mummy! Mummy! I missed you so, very, very much!”

 

Buffy buried her nose into Tommy’s soft neck and breathed in the mixed scent of baby shampoo, biscuits, and little boy, making her feel at home. She squeezed her eyes shut and held him to her until he started to squirm.

 

“Auntie Willow says there’s a playground. Let’s go play, Mummy!” he insisted when she let him go. He grabbed her hand and started pulling her down the path towards the giant playground. Willow followed behind with a beach bag full of toys, snacks, and a picnic blanket, watching mother and son start to race towards the geodesic jungle gym together.

 

Tommy was a world class daredevil and had been since he’d started to crawl. In fact, he’d started climbing almost immediately after he’d learned to crawl, and Giles had once found him three-quarters of the way up his built in bookshelves after taking his eyes off of him for thirty seconds whilst on a phone call. Since then Buffy and Giles had had to find ways to encourage his adventurous nature in a safe environment and build more structure into his schedule so that Tommy understood when it was appropriate to unleash that energy. Thankfully his mother was a Slayer and extremely active herself, but keeping up with an extremely inquisitive and intelligent toddler proved to be quite a challenge. Things, of course, got easier as he picked up language, and now that he was entering little boyhood, different challenges started to emerge, but that was part of the fun of parenting.

 

Buffy followed Tommy up the geodesic climbing dome. He made it to the top in record time and Buffy praised him. When he flashed her that quick, shy smile he’d inherited from his father in return, Buffy had to look away to keep her emotions at bay. They sat up there talking for a while as Tommy pointed out all the interesting things he could see from their vantage point until something caught his eye back on the ground and he raced back down the dome, jumping to the ground from the second level. Buffy followed him down and Willow was ready with the magicks in case he had a misstep, but that was the thing with Tommy: he was extremely surefooted and light on his feet.

 

After a few rounds of tag and being pushed on the swing to heights the other kids were jealous of, Tommy found a friend to play with and Buffy wandered over to Willow who was sprawled out on the blanket. “So, how are things going with you? Laura treating you well? Do I have to beat her up?”

 

“Things are good, so please no beatings,” she answered with a smile. “We haven’t seen each other this week, but she understands with Tommy. She hopes Giles gets better soon. She likes him too.”

 

“I’ll pass that along. He’ll appreciate it, even if he doesn’t know who she is right now.”

 

“He’ll remember soon. I found all the diaries you asked for. They are in a couple of shopping bags in the car.”

 

“Thanks, Wil. How’s Xander holding up?”

 

“He loves spending time with Tommy and you know Tommy thinks he’s the best uncle ever. It would really be better if he could have the day shift and I could take the night shift, because he’s all mister high energy and Tommy needs that, but he’s running the Council while you’re here and Giles is recovering, and of course, he’s working the transition for when you guys retire next month. Thankfully, he’s put a hard stop on work at five o’clock and comes and meets us for dinner. After we go for a long walk and they chase each other and play games to get the last of the extra energy out before bath and bedtime. So we manage just fine, but thank goodness for the four hours of preschool three times a week!”

 

“Yeah, I often say the same thing,” Buffy laughed, her eyes finding her son on the playground as he palled around with his new friend. “I adore Tommy, but he needs the structure and the socialization time that preschool gives him. And I need the break and the adult interaction time at work.”

 

Willow laughed. “You’ll have to find some other adult interaction time after you retire.”

 

“Well, Giles will be home…” Buffy’s smile faltered and she looked away. “Assuming he…”

 

“Hey, don’t think like that! How are you holding up?” Willow asked, placing her hand over her friend’s.

 

Buffy let out a breath. “Loaded question there.”

 

“I know, but it sounds like you need to vent.”

 

“Yeah, I do. I am just so frustrated with the situation. Sometimes he is so sweet and thoughtful, just like my Giles, and other times he’s just trying to cope as best he can and when he’s reached his tolerance levels, he’s all distant pre-Sunnydale crater, Watchery-Giles who is disappointed and angry with me. And I get it, because that is who he is right now, but I miss him and I miss us and I miss being a family; and while Tommy is fine hanging out with you and Xand, he needs me… and he needs his daddy too.” It all came out as a rambling rant and she was glad she got it all out because at that moment, Tommy came over and sat himself down in her lap.

 

“Auntie Willow, may I have some juice, please?” he asked as he leaned into his mother and held on.

 

“Sure, kiddo,” she said, producing a box from the bag and sticking the straw in it for him. “Want some crackers too?”

 

“Just juice,” he replied around the straw.

 

“Thank you,” Buffy reminded her son.

 

“Thank you,” he parroted politely.

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

He looked up at Buffy, his sylvan green eyes sad and thoughtful, and asked, “When are you and Daddy coming home?”

 

Buffy met his gaze before looking over at Willow, whose face was full of concern. Looking down to address her little boy, she answered, “Soon, Monkey, I promise. This weekend”

 

“Is Daddy okay after falling down?”

 

“Yeah, he just needs a little more time to heal, okay?”

 

Tommy nodded and yawned, snuggling into his mother’s embrace. “Saturday. Come home Saturday,” he said with authority.

 

“Saturday,” Buffy replied, swallowing around the lump in her throat. Giles should be finished with the diaries by then, and he would know everything, whether he remembered or not. “I promise.” She looked up at Willow as a tear escaped her eyelashes and rolled down her cheek. One way or another she was bringing Giles home on the weekend. 

 

“It’s just a few more days, Buff.”

 

Buffy looked down at Tommy who had fallen asleep against her chest and she cradled him to her. “He never naps,” she said in surprise.

 

Willow, too, was in shock. “I know. I guess all of this is taking its toll on him too. He’s just such a trooper-”

 

More tears streamed down Buffy’s cheeks and she looked up at her best friend. “What if… what if Giles doesn’t get his memories back?” she whispered in despair as she lightly stroked Tommy’s blond hair.

 

“What if? Buffy, let’s see where he gets with the diaries first. I mean, the doctor was confident Giles would recover his memories. It’s just that he got his bell rung pretty good when he fell off the roof and his brain needs time to figure everything out. But there is one thing I do know for certain… Giles is a  _ good _ man. If he doesn’t get them back, he’ll still be a great dad to Tommy and little peanut there… and because he loves you, he’ll work things through with you.”

 

“And what if he thinks we got married because… because that’s what  _ I _ needed and he couldn’t say no. He couldn’t run away like he did in Sunnydale when he thought I got too needy. Or… that he has to stay with me now because of Tommy and the baby and he doesn’t trusts me to parent alone…”

 

“Oh, Buffy, no!” Willow exclaimed in a hush so as not to wake the little boy.

 

“He’ll resent me!”

 

Willow moved so that she could hug Buffy to her. “No, Buffy, he has the diaries. He’ll know that’s not the case. He’ll see you for the strong, courageous woman you are and he’ll know you are an awesome mom!”

 

Buffy sobbed quietly into Willow’s shoulder, releasing all her fears, frustrations, and anger at the situation as she clutched her sleeping three-year-old to her.


	9. Puzzle Pieces

 

Giles had been extremely pleased that Buffy had retrieved his diaries for him. It seemed like such a simple solution to his problem and he should have thought of it himself, but trust Buffy to know exactly what he needed to get caught up to the present: his own memories, in his own words, put to paper.

 

Upon handing them over she’d promised she would answer any questions he might have, but she’d also given him a warning.

 

“I don’t know what you’ve written in there,” she’d said. “But I can tell you that things… were not good between us for a couple years. We didn’t see eye to eye and I don’t know how much of that was us and how much of that was the stress of that last Sunnydale apocalypse and the Big Bad playing us against each other. There will probably be times you hated me-”

 

“I could never hate you, Buffy,” he’d interrupted, placing his hand on her forearm.

 

She’d shaken her head and taken his hand in her free one, looking down at it before mustering up the courage to face him. “Don’t be so quick to think so. There were times I hated myself, Giles. But whatever emotions you feel or memories that are conjured up, please remember that we came through it. As painful as that all was, please, please just keep that in mind.”

 

He’d been shaken by her pleading. Could it really have been as bad as all that? “I will,” he’d promised.

 

She’d looked so absolutely knackered when she’d returned to the farmhouse that he’d wondered whether something had happened or whether he just hadn’t really noticed the toll his ordeal was taking on her. When he’d started to question her about it, she’d given him a reassuring smile and told him she was fine and that she was going to go nap so he could read in peace.

 

It was late evening when Giles pulled his head from his first set of diaries. He’d read the Watcher diaries and his personal diaries together. Sometimes the dates matched up and sometimes they didn’t, but the two together painted a better picture of what had transpired than one alone. He’d read through the aftermath of Willow’s apocalypse with much sadness and alarm. The things his family had gone through without him there: Buffy’s continuing depressive spiral leading her into Spike’s waiting arms (something he didn’t want to think about too closely), Dawn’s foray into kleptomania, Xander leaving poor Anya at the altar, Willow’s magicks addiction and quest for power, Tara’s death, and Willow’s catastrophic reaction to it, resulting in her wanting to end the world. Poor, innocent, beautiful, Tara. She’d been the one to pick up the pieces after Buffy died. She was the reason why he felt it was okay for him to leave: because out of all of them, she was the voice of stability and adulthood when he was floundering and unable to take care of himself, much less anyone else.

 

And so he’d come to the same conclusion he’d come to when he’d read about reconciling with Buffy in the Magic Box: that he had been very wrong to leave. He’d failed Buffy and he’d failed his friends and that stung. He’d let them down. And though some things might not have changed, perhaps the outcomes wouldn’t have been quite so catastrophic.

 

Setting the books aside, Giles looked at his watch. It was going on half eight. Buffy was still upstairs asleep. He hadn’t heard her stir, but then he’d been rather wrapped up in reading the events that continued where his memories left off. But he felt he needed to make sure she ate. She’d taken care of him rather well over the last few days. It was clearly his turn to take care of her and make sure she remained in good health, not just for her, but for the baby.

 

He allowed himself to think on that for a second. It still awed him that she was pregnant and a mother to a young son. His wanting to take care of her was born out of more than his duty as a Watcher, he knew that, after all, he had fallen in love with her somewhere down the line, and he felt drawn to her and to Tommy… and to the new life she carried inside of her.

 

“Stop your line of thinking, Giles,” he muttered to himself as he rose from the sofa and went to check what they had in the way of food in the fridge. “That way madness lies.”

 

Deciding that everything she had picked up at the supermarket the other day would require more preparation and cooking than his broken wrist would allow, he pulled out his mobile phone and looked for the number for the local Chinese delivery in his contact list. He ordered an assortment of starters and mains, including the Sichuan beef he knew Buffy liked so much.

 

He then made his way up the stairs, knocked on the bedroom door and peeked in. The setting sun cast an ethereal glow about the room. He found her sound asleep and curled up around a pillow, holding on for what seemed like dear life, and wondered if the nightmares and prophetic dreams still plagued her, and considering that she still had all her Slayer gifts, he hazarded the educated guess that they must.

 

Looking on her fondly, he wondered how it was she could warn him that he would hate her upon reading his diaries. Her ordeal after her resurrection was not her fault. When her support structure fell apart after he left, it was almost obvious she would confide in, and take comfort from, someone she normally despised. Although, in retrospect, leaving her with the very people who resurrected her hadn’t been the very best of ideas to begin with and the guilt welled up inside him.

 

Crouching down beside her, he whispered her name and gently shook her shoulder. She grabbed his hand and opened her eyes, instantly awake at his touch.

 

“Sorry,” Giles muttered in surprise, pulling his hand back.

 

“I uh… you startled me. Not really having a pleasant dream there,” she replied, sitting up in bed and sweeping her long, blonde hair from her face. “Everything okay?”

 

“Yes, yes. I… erm… took the liberty of ordering Chinese and it should be here soon.”

 

“From the one up the road?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Did you order Sichuan beef?”

 

Giles laughed. “Yes, although I am not sure why I did,” he answered, running his hand through his hair. “In Sunnydale you would order the General Tso’s,” he answered.

 

“Because I  _ always _ order it when we are here!” Buffy’s face lit up brightly. “I think you have your first memory back!” she exclaimed and quickly launched herself at him, hugging him to her, but in doing so, she threw him off balance and they both landed in a heap on the floor with Buffy lying on top of Giles. It should’ve hurt to have her fall on him, but he was so startled by the situation, that he didn’t even notice.

 

They laughed together at their clumsiness until their eyes met and suddenly Giles became aware that his left hand was holding her hip and his casted right hand rested against her rib cage just under her breast. And yet even knowing he was holding her rather intimately, he didn’t move his hands as time hung in a precarious balance between them, the tension nearly unbearable. Buffy’s hands rested against his chest and she slowly moved them up to his shoulders as her tongue peeked out to wet her lips. 

 

The doorbell rang, quickly snapping them from the moment.

 

Buffy was the first to move as she awkwardly climbed off of him and stood to let him up. Giles was in a bit of a state and she made sure to keep her eyes just below his to afford him some semblance of privacy. Extending a hand to help him up, she started to babble nervously, “Must be the delivery guy… because who else would it be out here in the sticks, you know? And you did order food, so you know, dinner is here…”

 

Giles was still a little stunned by the intimacy between them and cleared his throat before taking her hand. “Best I get that,” he said hefting himself up with her help.

 

“Yeah, I’ll join you downstairs in a few.”

 

He gave her a tight smile and, taking a deep breath to compose himself, headed down the stairs.

 

They didn’t talk about that incident. In fact, they didn’t talk much at all during dinner. Buffy knew he had read at least one of his diaries, but she didn’t want to pry and make things worse for them. She wondered what he would do with the revelation that she had slept with Spike, would he laugh it off like the first time? Would he lecture her? And how about her complete failure at parenting Dawn?

 

The Sichuan beef sat on her plate, mostly untouched, except when she pushed it around the plate with her fork. Giles managed to eat a couple vegetable dumplings and the cup of hot and sour soup he’d ordered, but for the most part, he’d found that his appetite, too, had faltered.

He was about to say something when she looked up to him and said, “I’m just completely wiped. I’m going to get ready for bed and crash early.” She rose and started to pack the uneaten food and take it to the fridge. “Do you want anything more?”

 

He shook his head and watched her from the dining room table, looking conflicted whilst she fidgeted with her wedding band. Not knowing how to comfort her, he sat there quietly trying to process what had happened between them upstairs in the bedroom, which of course, eclipsed his mulling over most of what he’d learned in the diaries so far.

 

Finally he rose from the table and joined her in the kitchen. “I’ll be up for a while reading. Why don’t you take the bed tonight, Buffy,” he suggested. “I hope to get through at least another year.”

 

She looked relieved. “Yeah, okay. Goodnight, Giles.” She stood there awkwardly, not knowing whether to hug him or not and when the moment stretched on, she just opted for a quick smile and a shrug of her shoulders before heading towards the stairs.

 

“Sleep well,” he called after her.

 

—————

 

Giles settled himself in the overstuffed chair with a mug of tea and the diaries that immediately followed Willow’s apocalypse. He finished reading them in about two hours, even allowing for stops here and there to reflect on the events that had transpired.

 

He couldn’t believe that his relationship with Buffy had been decimated so thoroughly. Admittedly, there were times he didn’t like her very much, and it seemed she wasn’t overly fond of him, either. Living under siege from the First Evil in a house not built for the sheer amount of people living in it had created an extreme amount of tension, and while Giles had gone off in search of more potentials from time to time, his returns with more girls to feed, clothe, and shelter had only created more friction in an already tense environment.

 

Of course, with Spike in the mix, he should’ve known everything would go so terribly tits up. Spike had been trying to break up his little family for years… and he’d succeeded rather spectacularly, it seemed. Spike’s blind devotion to Buffy had been more than self-serving, and with the addition of his soul, he had managed to guilt her into taking responsibility for it. But, in the end, Giles had learnt that in the argument about keeping Spike around, he’d been wrong and she’d been right. It had been the vampire’s sacrifice that had saved the world and allowed Buffy to have the life she had now. Spike’s most selfless act. And perhaps it was love and not just obsession. And for that, Giles couldn’t help but feel he understood Spike a little better.

 

However, Giles found that it was the final entry in that volume that affected him most. Several days had passed after the final battle and the destruction of Sunnydale and he had clearly made up his mind that he would, once again, be leaving the band of survivors. He’d done everything he could for Buffy, the gang, and the new Slayers. To help further, he needed to return to London to see whether he could access the old Council resources, assuming any remained after the explosion.

 

Of course, the losses had weighed as heavily on his soul then as it did now upon learning what happened to friends, family and colleagues during the war. It had been a tragedy on a phenomenal scale and reading about it had broken his heart. But there was the relief at knowing Buffy, Willow, Xander, and Dawn had all survived, as had Faith, along with his friend Robson and several other Council colleagues, as well as a handful of Potentials turned Slayers.

 

But the diaries had told him that whilst he had been making arrangements on the phone with the airline, a knock had come at the door of his hotel room. He’d answered it only to find Buffy standing there looking up at him, asking if he had a moment to talk.

 

In the uncertainty of those last few days, it had been clear that Buffy had been thinking of next steps as well. With Faith and Robin Wood having left for Cleveland to tackle the new hellmouth and taking along a handful of the new Slayers with them, Buffy had been left with some time to breathe and to think. She’d outlined a plan for building an organization to support the Slayers and any surviving Watchers that might still be out there and willing to aid in the fight against evil. Hers had been more of a high level idea that would need flushing out and more concrete details, but her ingenuity and brilliance had shown through.

 

And before he’d known what was happening, she’d leaned forward and placed a hand on his arm, her warm green gaze meeting his, before saying, “I  _ need _ you, Giles, I can’t provide for all these girls alone, I wouldn’t even know where to begin… but most of all,  _ I _ need  _ you,  _ as my partner and my friend.”

 

His heart had skipped a beat reading the text as clearly it had done at the time, considering the detail of emotion he’d expressed in the diary entry. For that had been his worst fear: becoming obsolete to her and losing her trust and friendship.

 

“I know we need to talk about all the badness, and I promise we will if you give me time, but I think this is something we need to do together. We’ve always been a great team… well we were… and I think we can be again. Will you do this with me?”

 

There had been no other possible answer other than yes, and after a lengthy hug followed by laughter and tears, they’d spent the rest of the afternoon and evening brainstorming and outlining plans to build an organization on the foundations of the old Council, dedicated to the welfare and support of Slayers and Watchers around the globe. And so they’d made plans move to London with Dawn, and Willow and Xander if they chose to join them, to set up their new headquarters.

 

After finishing his latest batch of diaries, Giles placed them on the table and tried to find a comfortable position on the couch. Any residual resentment he’d held towards Buffy with regard to their separation had been washed away after reading his own recorded words. Buffy had endured more pain and heartache than anyone should, and regardless of his intentions, he’d caused a significant chunk of her suffering. Of course, she’d hurt him a fair amount as well, but in reading his accounts of those lost years, his heart had let that go of that bitterness.

 

That night, his dreams were filled with images of Buffy. In one, he’d been lying beside her in the soft morning light, watching her as she dozed, her nude body tangled with his and her arm draped across his waist. In another he caught a glimpse of her in her wedding dress at the reception as she danced some silly line dance with Dawn and Willow and several other guests; and in yet another, she sat around a Christmas tree  surrounded by their little extended family, holding her son, who must’ve just been a few months shy of one. The final dream was definitely more troubling for him, it’s erotic content involving them both as lovers, and he woke with a start, breathing heavily, his shorts much too tight to be comfortable.

 

When he’d gotten himself under control, Giles decided to take a walk out to the stables to clear his head. It was just before sunrise and he knew the best vantage point on the property to greet the morning. The view to the east was perfect there as the land below dipped into a valley, and he watched as the sun crested over the hill opposite, illuminating the sky with hues of pink, and orange, and gold, it’s rays touching the low lying fog in the valley and reflecting a myriad of purples, and greys, and blues to the world above, unwilling to reveal the secrets contained within the mist.

 

Shaking his head, his mind was no clearer and he still had no proper memories, only the recounting of events in his diaries, but his heart seemed to hold fast to its desire for his Slayer. His dreams had certainly emphasized that particular tidbit of knowledge in vivid technicolor. Things would change soon. Either the knowledge from his diaries would trigger his memories to return or he would just have the knowledge of the last six years to draw on as he faced whatever awaited him, but he didn’t want to face it without Buffy. She was the golden light in his world. That much he knew.

 

As he turned to make his way back down to the farmhouse, he spied the little silver tabby he’d seen before curled up in a large flower pot with a handsome ginger tomcat and he gave them a wide berth so as not to disturb their slumber.


	10. Revelations

 

After taking a leisurely turn around the expansive property, Giles returned to the house and found Buffy eating breakfast in the kitchen, drinking a mug of ginger herbal tea. “Good morning,” he greeted.

 

“Good morning,” she answered with a soft smile. “The water is still hot in the kettle.”

 

“Thank you. Sleep well?”

 

“Better than the last few days,” she answered before taking a sip of the brew. “You?”

 

He took a mug from the cupboard and stuck a teabag in it. “Not really,” he admitted. “Interesting dreams. When I woke up, I decided to go for a walk. I’d forgotten how beautiful the sunrises are here.”

 

“The sunsets are spectacular too,” Buffy replied.

 

“They are,” he agreed congenially.

 

“You want to talk about your dreams?”

 

“Not specifically,” he answered. His tea made, he sat down at the table beside her. “I think my brain is trying to put together the pieces of information it’s been given and is trying to force them together into a narrative that only Morpheus could weave.”

 

“Well, if you ever need me to kick some Greek god butt, I’m your girl,” she offered with a teasing smile.

 

_ His _ girl. If only…

 

He gave her an half-hearted smile. “Thank you. I imagine it will be this way until my brain is able to recall those memories and put things in their proper place.”

 

The knock at the door had them looking at each other quizzically.

 

“Huh, I think the delivery guys are early,” she said looking at the clock on the microwave.

 

“Take some time to relax,” he said getting up from the table. “I’ll supervise the workers.”

 

Giles showed the delivery men up to Tommy’s room and oversaw the building of the castle bunk bed. It took about an hour and he was happy to shoot the breeze and assist where he could, his mind distracted from from his concerns until one of the men conversationally asked Giles whether the bed was a surprise or whether his son had picked it out.

 

The question affected him in ways he didn’t really want to acknowledge. There was a giant ache in his heart at the mention of ‘his son,’ but he tried to push it from his mind and respond to the question. Giles didn’t know the answer, so he opted for it being Tommy’s choice, to which the man went on and on about how much Giles’ little boy was going to love his new bed. Then he mentioned that he was a father of two little ones, a baby and a two year old, and wasn’t fatherhood the greatest job in the world? Giles resisted the urge to punch him. It was just simpler and more civilized to agree and change the subject.

 

When the delivery men were finally finished, he went over to the bunk bed and inspected the work. Running his good hand along the top rail, Giles smiled. He would’ve loved something like this as a child. When he was young, he had made forts out of blankets and pillows in which to read and hide from the world, some of which had been pretty elaborate, and those had done the job, but something like this? Instinctively, he knew Tommy was going to love it!

 

After testing the joints and climbing the ladder to the top to determine its sturdiness, Giles was satisfied that the structure was indeed safe enough for Buffy’s little boy. He then thanked the delivery guys, showed them out the door, and went in search of Buffy to show her the amazing castle bunk bed. When he finally found her, she was outside talking on her mobile phone.

 

“Yes, thank you for calling me back. You do have space? That’s great!” Buffy held the phone to her ear and leaned over to pluck a weed from a flower pot on the patio. “Sure, his first name is Thomas. Middle is Everett. Yes, same last name.  March 7 th , 2005. Right… just turned 3 last month. We’re looking for three days a week. Just mornings, thanks…”

 

Thomas Everett. Giles quickly stepped back into the house, the name triggering an extreme emotional response in his psyche and he needed a moment to puzzle it out. Thomas… Everett. Suddenly his eyes went wide with recognition and he found he desperately needed answers.

 

When Buffy entered the house, she could feel the tension coming off him as he paced the room. “Hey, everything okay?” she called.

 

Covering the distance between them in a couple of bounds, Giles’ grey-green eyes were wide and pleading. “What is your husband’s name?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Is his name also Thomas?”

 

Buffy’s brows knotted in confusion and she tilted her head before responding. “Uh… no, why?”

 

“I need to know. You never talk about him… your husband.”

 

“We do. You keep bringing him up, especially when you are angry. What gives?”

 

“I bring him up and you evade,” Giles snapped.

 

“What is this about?” she asked, lowering her voice and taking a step back to give him some space. “You are all agitated.”

 

“Tommy,” he stated matter-of-factly, as if she could read his mind. 

 

“Tommy?”

 

“I heard you out there! Thomas  _ Everett _ . Everett is your mother’s maiden name - I don’t know how many times I wrote it out on all those forms after she passed… a-and, and Thomas… is my father’s name. I hardly think it’s coincidence. Tell me… please.” His voice cracked at the request as he begged her to confirm his suspicions.

 

She looked up at him and nodded, tears welling in her overly bright, green eyes.

 

Giles tightly closed his eyes, willing himself to believe, because anything else just didn’t make sense, and yet, on the surface, neither did this, but it was all he could come up with to explain the emotions he’d been dealing with the last few days. “He’s… ours?” He asked, opening them again, his voice barely rising above a whisper.

 

“Yes,” she breathed, taking a few steps closer and bridging the gap between them. “And this one too,” she stated gently as she took his hand and placed it firmly on her belly.

 

His breathing shallow, Giles’ questioning gaze searched hers for the final answer to the riddle. “And we are…”

 

Buffy bit her lip. She had no idea how he would react, but he’d asked a direct question and she wouldn’t evade, she wouldn’t answer any other way. “Married,” she said with a slight tremor in her voice. She couldn’t decipher the look on his face: he’d closed his eyes again, his brow furrowed as myriads of emotions washed over him. “But Giles,” she was quick to continue, the tears finally falling from her lashes, “not… not because we have to be… not because of some sense of duty or loyalty… or because I am not in a healthy place…“

 

He opened his eyes and watched her fumble as the fear rose in those expressive, watery, sylvan depths and he quickly took her hand in his. “I know,” he replied tenderly, trying to allay her worries. “I know.”

 

“You remember?”

 

Shaking his head, Giles answered, “Not… specifics. Only… feelings, if that makes sense. I  _ know _ I love you, Buffy, that somewhere along the way I fell in love with you. I can feel it. It’s here…” He let go of her hand and pointed to his heart. “And here,” he said again, tapping his finger against his temple. “And, Buffy, I  _ know _ your strength. I can  _ see _ it and have experienced it these past few days. I am so, so, so sorry for ever letting you believe otherwise, for not being there when you needed me most. I just didn’t know how…“

 

She placed her index finger over his lips. “Shhhhh. Just… just hold me? Please?” 

 

He gently folded her into his arms and held her as she wept against his chest, unleashing a tide of emotion, her hold on him almost crushing. He held her just as tightly, his left hand cradling her neck while he soothingly stroked his thumb just below her ear. When her crying subsided, he led her to the couch where they sat together, their knees touching, and he handed her his handkerchief.

 

“I must look a mess,” she said with an embarrassed half laugh.

 

“No… a little waterlogged maybe,” he replied as he took the liberty to tuck a stray blonde lock behind her ear so he could see her better.

 

“Are you angry with me?”

 

“Am I… angry with you? Dear lord, Buffy, whatever for?” he asked, his face a mask of confusion.

 

“I just thought… you know, I…” she stopped herself. “You’ve just been so…  _ cross _ with me.”

 

He chuckled at her use of the more British turn of phrase. The Buffy he remembered would’ve used the term pissed. Cupping her cheek tenderly, he said, “I am sorry I gave you that impression. I’ve been  _ cross _ at the situation. Not knowing… anything of the last six years. Not knowing why you are here with me and not with your…  _ our _ son.”

 

Buffy leaned into his touch. It was a salve for all the hurt they’d gone through over the week. “I probably should’ve told you at the hospital. I just thought… I mean, we just weren’t in a position to think about one another in these terms all those years ago… where your memories stop. And then there’s Tommy… he wouldn’t have understood…”

 

“No, he wouldn’t have,” he agreed. “And to be honest, I am not sure I was in any state of mind to hear it. Besides, Dr Gibson wanted me to remember on my own - not that I have…” He took in a deep breath. “I wish I could remember.”

 

“You  _ will _ ,” she said her eyes searching his, willing him to believe it, mostly because she needed him to believe it for her. “But, you needed to know. I needed you to know. That’s why I got the diaries… because you need something to trigger your memory, and I…  _ we _ … can’t stay away from Tommy much longer. He needs us, Giles.” A tear dropped from Buffy’s lashes and she dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief again.

 

“We have to do what is best for us, Buffy… for our family,” Giles told her with conviction. He’d never been quite comfortable with her being away from her… no,  _ their _ son; and the estrangement she’d dealt with, along with tending to his needs, had placed her in a very difficult position, and he wanted to make it up to her. “We don’t have the luxury of waiting on my memories. They’ll come when they do.”

 

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice hitching in her throat. “Thank you for understanding.”

 

“He’s my son, too, Buffy, I want to do everything right by him… and by you.” He looked down at his hands in a mild confession. “I think part of me knew it all along. I just felt… connected to him. Even before I figured out I was in love with you, I needed to fight for him, advocate for him.”

 

“You’re the perfect dad, Giles. I love watching you with him and he just adores you.” He gave her that adorable shy smile she’d always loved so much, the same smile Tommy gave her now when she praised him, and she leaned in to hug him again. “This okay?” she asked, keeping in mind his understanding and his emotions.

 

“More than,” he replied, hugging her close.

 

“I saw him yesterday… Tommy,” she confessed, not sure how he’d take the news. “I met Willow in the park to pick up the diaries and she brought him with her.”

 

“How was he?” he asked neutrally as he soothingly stroked her hair.

 

Buffy sighed. “He’s so amazing, Giles. He understands you are hurt and he’s worried about you, but he misses us and wants us to come home.”

 

“Nothing says we have to stay here. Let’s go home, Buffy, to our son.”

 

—————

 

They’d agreed that they would leave for their London home first thing the following morning, allowing Giles a little more time to get more acquainted with his new life as he skimmed through the accounts of their lives. About an hour before sunset, Buffy woke from her nap on the couch, needing a snack and to stretch her legs. She quietly got up so as not to disturb her husband who looked thoroughly engrossed in his reading and headed to the kitchen before returning to the lounge with a container of yoghurt, flopping back down on the sofa with one leg tucked under her.

 

Giles looked up from his reading at the noise, an adorable blush painting his neck and cheeks.

 

“I take it you just found the entry about us getting together?” she asked, the tone of her voice a tad too innocent.

 

“Yes…” Giles said, shifting a little in his chair. “Seems I was rather… descriptive about it.”

 

“Well, it was rather amazing… and significant. I would’ve been insulted had you not given it its due.” Buffy winked at him and dipped her spoon back into the yoghurt.

 

He gave her that incredibly adorable, shy smile and set the book down. “Right! That’s enough for now, I should think,” he said, standing up and stretching his long frame.

 

“Wanna go for a walk? We can catch the sunset.”

 

“That would be nice. Feeling antsy?”

 

“You know how it is… Slayer energy. Plus I had a pretty long nap.”

 

“You still… even with…” He wasn’t exactly sure how to phrase things. She’d always gotten an extra shot of energy just before nightfall, that was the Slayer in her getting ready for the fight. Six years and thousands of Slayers activated from her Slayer magicks, and the fact that she was now pregnant, he just didn’t expect that nervous energy to still be a factor.

 

“Yeah. I was more tired in the first trimester. Same for when I was pregnant with Tommy, but things sort of returned to normal in that department in the second, in fact I usually have more energy. Now, the third trimester… boy that was a  _ whole _ nother story. That’s when I thought the extra Slayer energy would help out, but no. I am sure it will be a whole bundle of fun when I hit that stage and am chasing after Tommy. Thankfully he will be in nursery school for a few hours every other day. At least I will be able to nap.”

 

Giles had his Watcher face on. “I suppose all these observations have been written down for… reference purposes?”

 

Buffy laughed and got up from the sofa. “Oh yes. You pretty much documented everything… and came very close to being beaten about the head and shoulders with your diary several times for it. Oh, and I edited out the personal stuff before you submitted it to the Council librarian,” she said, heading back to the kitchen where she rinsed out her yoghurt container and tossed it in the recycling bin. “Just can’t take the Watcher out of the boy.”

 

“No, no, I suppose not,” he answered. “Are you ready to go? It’s not getting any earlier out there!”

 

“Hold your ponies! I’ll be ready in a minute!” she called back, enjoying the teasing banter between them. “I may be a Slayer, but I still need shoes!”

 

“Make sure they are something appropriate for walking the fields!” he called back. “Form over fashion!”

 

—————

 

His previous rambles along the property over the last several days had done Giles some good. His muscles were less sore and he was able to walk at a pace that would help rid Buffy of some of that extra energy. After a good walk, they stopped along the western fence line to watch the sunset. The sky already burned bright with oranges and pinks and purples despite the sun still remaining rather high in the horizon.

 

“It’s beautiful,” he commented with a sigh.

 

“It is,” Buffy agreed as Giles leaned forward and rested his forearms on the fence. “How are you holding up?”

 

“How so?” he asked.

 

“Well, you’ve just covered two very significant years of our history.”

 

“Ah,” he responded, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “It’s not easy to process. In a way part of it is like reading a history book, I am disconnected from the events. And some of it is… utterly devastating. The Council… colleagues, friends, rivals, a few cousins. Of course we also lost Anya and Tara… and Spike, all whom you told me about before, but without the detail.” He shook his head and inhaled deeply, the smell of the grasses fresh with the evening dew invading his senses. It was an extremely comforting smell that never failed to conjure up early childhood memories of playing in the fields. “It’s…”

 

Buffy reached out and took his left hand in hers, squeezing it in sympathy. “It’s okay, I am here.”

 

“I know and I appreciate it,” he said, returning the squeeze. “It’s just a lot to take in.”

 

“It is,” she agreed. She looked down at their hands and asked, “Are  _ we _ okay? I mean, I know us being married is a bit of a leap from where we were when your memories stop, but you’ve probably just read the worst about me-”

 

“Please!” Giles interrupted and when she looked up at him he softened his tone. “Please… don’t,” he entreated, not wanting her to berate herself further. “I carry my fair share of horrible moments during that time. Let’s leave Sunnydale where it lies: buried in a crater some five and a half thousand miles across the globe from us.” 

 

“Oh, thank god!” Buffy declared, the look of relief on her face almost breaking his heart.

 

“Come here,” he invited softly as he let go of her hand and opened his arms to her. She stepped into his embrace and hugged him to her tightly, perhaps a bit too tightly.

 

“Buffy… the bruises,” he breathed.

 

“Sorry,” she mumbled into his chest as she relieved some of the pressure, yet unwilling to let go.

 

They stood there quietly holding one another, watching the colors play across the sky until the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. It was easier now, as he had some gaps filled in his lost past, and of course there was still more to read in the diaries - another four years to catch up on, but he was so much more at ease with his emotions now that he understood where they had come from.

 

“We’re going to lose the residual light soon,” he whispered, so as not to disturb the moment.

 

“Just a few more moments,” she whispered back as she looked up at him. “I’m not ready to give this up just yet.”

 

He affectionately trailed the back of his fingers down cheek. “Nor am I,” he murmured, his voice half an octave lower than usual. “You are an amazing woman, Buffy. I am the luckiest man alive to be able share your life with you. Thank you.”

 

Her eyes searched his and she could see the depth of his emotions radiating from within. “I love you so much,” she breathed.

 

He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers and found that one touch was not enough and took her lips in a tender salute. It felt like home, holding her in his arms and kissing her. When it ended, Buffy sighed and placed her forehead against his chest, over his heart and he held her close, not wanting to let her go.

 

“I miss you,” she said, her voice shaky. 

 

“I am sorry, I am trying to remember. I promise.”

 

“I know you are,” Buffy answered as she hugged him a little harder. “I guess we should head back,” she said  regretfully as she moved out from his embrace.

 

“Only if we want to make it back without breaking our ankles in a rabbit warren,” he joked to lighten the mood.

 

“Not gonna happen.” She took his hand and started leading him back to the farmhouse. He looked at her with amusement. “Slayer night vision,” she explained.

 

“That’s all well and good for you,” he grumbled good-naturedly. “But I am a mere man, who, as you can see, breaks rather easily.”

 

Buffy let out a guffaw. “No evil underground bunny lairs are going to take down my man!”

  
He let out a hearty laugh.  _ Her man. _ Yes, Giles supposed he was, memories or no, and even during the darker times. Always had been really, first as her Watcher, then as her friend and partner, and now as her husband - the idea of which made his heart do funny things within his chest. Letting go of her hand, he placed his arm around her shoulders and drew her close, feeling at peace when she wrapped her arm around his waist.


	11. Reconnection

 

A ray of early morning light peaked through the curtains, and Buffy valiantly fought a losing battle against the rising consciousness that threatened to end her sleep. It was the first real and restorative sleep she’d had in days, and conceding the battle, she admitted that she felt pretty good. That, and the body she was curled up against felt pretty good too. Stretching into him she let out a soft moan and wrapped her arm around his middle. Burying her face into his chest, she inhaled his comforting scent. He smelled right, her Giles.

 

She was so relieved when he agreed to share the bed with her again. It hadn’t take much to convince him. Two nights on the sofa was about as much as he could take. That and they had both been reluctant to go separate ways, the day and evening having been extremely emotional for both. When they’d entered the bedroom together, he had seemed a little hesitant, so she’d given him a head start by taking extra time in the bathroom to clean her face and brush her teeth. After finishing with her routine, she’d found him in bed waiting her with that shy, half smile tugging at his lips as he pulled back the duvet for her, and she’d gave him a reassuring kiss before settling herself into his side and allowing sleep to take over.

 

Giles snuffled and shifted in his sleep, turning into her. His casted right arm was elevated on a pillow above them while his left hand trailed down her side and over her rear, drawing her in closer to his body. When he seemed to have her where he wanted her, he let out a soft sigh and started to run his fingers back up her side and over her back in a gentle caress.

 

God, how she’d missed him! His touch felt so good and she bit her lip as her body started to react. Buffy couldn’t help but run the palm of her free hand over his shoulders and chest, reacquainting herself with the solid strength hidden beneath his soft cotton shirt. He let out a soft sigh as his body arched into her touch and he slipped his leg between hers. She could feel his morning erection hot and hard and insistent against her thigh, causing the arousal deep within her belly to ignite like wildfire. When his hand moved up to the back of her neck and he gently directed her head towards his, Buffy looked up into his jade eyes and found the same level of desire dwelling deep within them.

 

“Good morning,” Giles greeted softly.

 

“Hi,” she returned with a smile.

 

His gaze wandered down to her mouth as his tongue peaked out to wet his lips just a heartbeat before he placed the most tentative of kisses on hers, barely a flutter of a caress. His eyes came up to search hers again, finding relief and longing within and he pressed his lips met hers again, this time with a little more pressure. Unable to stop, he peppered her lips with kisses again and again until he introduced his tongue to hers in a lazy, unhurried, and sensual kiss. When it ended, he took her bottom lip between his teeth and gently nibbled it before letting go.

 

“Giles?” she asked hesitantly, her breathing shallow and her body tense with yearning.

 

“Shhh,” he admonished, taking her lips once more as he kissed his way along her jawline and to her neck. “I am making love to my wife.”

 

“God,” she whispered, before taking his chin in her hand and directing his mouth towards hers, capturing it with a searing kiss. Her tongue darted out to dance with his as her hand wandered over his jaw and into the soft hair on the back of his head. When they broke apart, she pressed his forehead against his, her breathing shallow. “Do you… do you remember?” she asked her expression hopeful.

 

He shook his head, his green eyes expressing his regret, but then he tilted his head playfully and the corner of his mouth twitched with amusement, “But if you kiss me like that again, I just might.”

 

“Giles!” she admonished with a laugh.

 

He laughed with her, feeling freer than he had in… he really didn’t know when considering he’d lost the last six years, but he definitely knew that he never wanted to feel as lost as he had this past week ever again. With Buffy by his side, he knew things were going to be fine. Actually better than fine.

 

“I love you, Buffy,” he said sincerely, carefully moving the lock of her hair that fell into her face behind her ear. “Memories or no, I do know that for a fact.”

 

Her eyes glistened with happy tears. “God, I love you too, Giles.” Leaning in, she caressed his lips with hers, a gentle, yet sensuous touch, conveying all her love, but it quickly built in intensity as lips, tongue, and teeth explored and teased, and their hands danced along each other’s bodies. A moment of clarity hit her and she gently pulled away from him and asked, “You sure want to do this? If… if you need time to adjust to all this, it’s okay.”

 

“I… I want this. I want you, Buffy, but I know I am not exactly… the man you married, and if you need more time, just say the word,” he said, shifting on the bed to allow them to have the conversation without the distraction of their heated bodies yearning for the touch of the other.

 

It was a simple truth. He wasn’t the man she married… but things were more complex than that. Giles loved her and was in love with her. And even though he wasn’t the Giles of her present, he was the man who would become hers. He’d read several his diaries, had accepted her faults and failures and had acknowledged his own, and deemed them bygones, something to stay buried in their complicated past. And whether he ever regained those memories or not, he wanted her, and he wanted Tommy and their baby.

 

Cupping his cheek, she brought him closer to her and kissed him softly. “I don’t need time,” she answered. “I want you.”

 

“That’s settled then!” Giles laughed with joy and pulled her towards him as he rolled onto his back. “From what I read in the diary, you particularly like this position.”

 

Buffy giggled as she straddled him. “Heh, you only read the one entry.”

 

“Fine, _I_ particularly like this position,” he amended, looking up at her appreciatively. “Plus it’s easier at the moment,” he added as he rested his casted hand against her hip.

 

Buffy leaned over and shoved his t-shirt up his torso, kissing her way up his chest as she exposed his flesh. He sighed beneath her attentions and dragged his fingers up her thigh and over her hip to the waistband of her sweatpants.

 

“Up,” she murmured and pulled the t-shirt off. The bruises on torso still looked nasty, but she could see evidence of healing. “Everything, okay?” she asked, as she carefully trailed the tips of her fingers over his chest and sides.

 

He nodded and tugged at the hem of her shirt. “Take it off.”

 

Buffy reached down and pulled the shirt over her head, exposing her breasts to him.

 

He shook his head. “I didn’t do you justice in the diary entry,” he murmured reverently. “Words fail to describe how beautiful you are.”

 

“I wasn’t pregnant then,” she laughed and cupped her breasts for him. “They’re a bit bigger than normal.”

 

He laughed with her as he raised himself up to a sitting position and took a stiff, pink nipple into his mouth. Buffy arched into him and he brought his left hand up to palm and tease at her other breast. Adjusting for the change in position, Buffy moved her body to get a better perch on his lap, rubbing her heated core over his rock hard erection.

 

Releasing her nipple, Giles let out a groan. “Christ, Buffy!”

 

“God, you feel so good,” she moaned, grinding herself against him a few more times.

 

“Keep that up and I am going to make a mess,” he panted, nipping at her chin.

 

Buffy gave him a quick kiss and moved off of him, slipping out of her sweats and then removing his. She stood before him and his breath caught in his throat. Moving towards the edge of the bed, he reverently placed a soft kiss on her raised belly. His child… _their_ child safely nestled within and growing inside her.

 

“Oh, my love,” he sighed as he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her near and nestling his head between her breasts. He couldn’t help the tears that pricked his eyes.

 

Buffy felt the raggedness of his breathing and kissed the top of his head before kneeling down before him. Looking up, she took his head between her hands and pulled it down to kiss his forehead, then his eyes, the tip of his nose, and finally, smiling up at him, she brushed her lips over his.

 

“I love you, Giles,” she stated before kissing him again a little harder.

 

“I didn’t know…” he said, his eyes wide as he searched her mossy green ones.

 

“Didn’t know what?”

 

He caressed her cheek. “I didn’t know I could love someone like this.”

 

Knowing he needed to voice his thoughts, Buffy tilted her head and asked, “Like how?”

 

“With all that I am.”

 

It was a simple declaration, but not an easy one for him. She had known Giles for eleven years now and she knew how guarded he’d been and how difficult it had been for him to give himself wholly. Over the years he’d loved her as his Slayer and as a friend, he’d loved her as a partner and as a member of his ragtag little family. Of course, some time after Sunnydale, that love had changed again and his heart no longer belonged solely to him, and when he’d finally gotten down on one knee and proposed, he’d told her that he loved her completely. That every part of him loved every part of her, with all that he was and all that he ever would be.

 

“God Buffy,” he declared, as though it was all so new to him. And she supposed that to him it was. “I want to be the man you fell in love with. I want to be the one who is worthy of being your husband and the father of your children.”

 

“Oh, Giles!” Buffy stood quickly, her eyes never leaving his, and the moment before she took his lips in a searing kiss, she answered, “You are!” Her tongue invaded his mouth, tussling with his as her arms wound their way around his neck, her right hand plunging into his soft, greying hair and pulling him closer to her. “Move back on the bed and settle yourself against the pillows and headboard,” she instructed, her voice heavy with need.

 

Giles did as he was told and watched her climb onto the bed and crawl her way towards him, like a regal lioness stalking her prey. It was damnably sexy. He was so hard, his cock hot and thick with his need for her.

 

“I am so wet for you, Giles,” she whispered as she straddled his thighs.

 

“Show me,” he breathed.

 

She reached between her legs and slowly touched herself, her fingers sliding easily between her folds before she brought them back to circle her clitoris. She moaned and bit her lip and Giles swore heartily under his breath as she pleasured herself.

 

Deciding she had teased him enough, Buffy brought her hand up, showing him the two fingers that glistened with her nectar. He took her hand in his and brought her fingers to his mouth, licking at them and sucking them clean, his eyes holding hers as he did so.

 

“You taste divine,” he stated as he pulled her to him for a long, sensual kiss, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue.

 

“Please, I am so ready,” she whimpered.

 

He held himself steady for her, intently watching their union as she enveloped his cock deep within her welcoming heat.

 

“Christ!” he growled when they were fully joined.

 

“Everything okay?” she asked as she nuzzled her nose against his, savoring the feeling of completeness with him.

 

He placed a tender kiss on her lips. “Perfect,” he breathed. “I love the way you feel around me…”

 

“God, how I have missed you” she answered.

 

Buffy set a slow and steady cadence for them as curious hands and lips traversed the planes and curves of each other’s bodies, touching, tasting, and teasing one another. Being able to express her love for him and to touch him was an amazingly wonderful and cathartic experience after the uncertainty she’d faced in the wake of his fall, and she reveled in connecting with her husband again.

 

As she undulated against him, Giles watched the emotions play over her face, utterly humbled by the love he saw reflected in her eyes, and he relished the joy of being able to banish his doubts and fears and show her how much he loved her through his words, his touches, and his actions. Eventually emotional reconnection succumbed to physical need and, as the intensity between them built, their pace increased until they followed one another into oblivion, Buffy collapsing onto Giles’ chest.

 

He held her close while they waited out the aftershocks and for their breathing to return to normal, soft little kisses and caresses keeping them connected. When she moved off of him, they settled down into the bed and she curled into him, her head resting on his right shoulder and her fingers drawing random designs in his damp chest hair.

 

“Lazy morning sex isn’t something we get to indulge in much anymore,” she mentioned wistfully.

 

“No, I imagine not, not with the little one,” he replied, placing a kiss against her temple. “So, I haven’t had a chance to ask… if we live in London and we effectively run the Council, tell me what we are doing renovating this old place for? A weekend refuge?”

 

“Well, originally you had plans to sell it.”

 

“That had been an option for a very long time,” he answered, threading his fingers through hers.

 

“True, but after we were married, you showed me the place and I sort of fell in love with it, and you fell in love with it all over again. So we decided to renovate, upgrade the wiring and the plumbing, put in some modern amenities, expand the kitchen, and create the new master with the ensuite. Xander came out and wanted to help with the design of it. He missed working with his hands. It’s taken a while, but we’re almost done now.” She kissed his shoulder before pushing herself up on her elbow to look at him. “After Tommy was born we decided to give the Council a few more years before stepping down and letting someone else lead. That gave us the time we needed to get the house and stables renovated and time to finish building the programs we started for the Council… and we’ve done that. We can retire now. We’ve given enough. It’s time to focus on us and our family.”

 

Unable to form a proper response to the very idea that they were retiring from their Calling, Giles let go of her hand and caressed her cheek before kissing her softly.

 

“So… yeah,” she sighed, happily. “Retirement. And Xander and Vi are going to run the Council as Head Watcher and Slayer.”

 

Giles certainly was gobsmacked at that news. He knew Xander was a capable young man. He’d proven himself in his construction job and had risen through the ranks quickly, but Giles wasn’t necessarily sure he was Watcher or Council material. However, he had to admit that Xander was a competent researcher and had an analytical mind beneath his clownish exterior, and that six years was a long time for someone to grow and mature - he’d done it after his rebellious time running around London - and, of the accounts he had read in his diaries, it indicated that Xander had done an awful lot of growing up since Giles had left Sunnydale. Still, it was a little incongruous with his memories, but if Buffy felt Xander was up for the role, then who was he to second guess her?

 

Instead he asked after the incoming new Head Slayer. “Vi… one of the Sunnydale survivors, correct?”

 

“Yeah, she’s really proven herself as a Slayer and a leader. For the last two years, she’s been my second, so she knows where we are taking the Council. She also works really well with Xander and has some interesting ideas of her own to take the organization forward,” Buffy explained with pride.

 

“Amazing,” Giles responded, shaking his head. “It just all seems…”

 

“Too good to be true?” she asked.

 

“Yes,” he replied, trying to process the news. All his young life he’d tried to run away from his Calling before begrudgingly accepting it. Buffy had had her own issues accepting it as well over the years. It all seemed so surreal. “Are you sure this isn’t some fantastic dream?”

 

She laughed and playfully nipped at his lips, “No, you big lug, you just fell off the roof.”

 

“Ah, yes, that would explain the blasted cast on my right arm and the itching skin around the stitches on my head,” he stated good-naturedly as he nuzzled her nose.

 

“Yeah, probably not part of a fantastic dream,” she teased, moving to place a soothing kiss just above the dressing on the side of his head. “My poor, handsome husband.”

 

 _Husband._ Yes, he thought, that suited him rather well.

 

“Oh, that reminds me.” She hopped out of bed and found the jeans she’d worn the night before, digging into her pockets until she found the items she was looking for. When she returned, she found Giles sitting up in bed with an inquisitive look on his face. Taking a seat next to him, she held out her hand and opened it to reveal his signet ring and a beveled edge, matte silver wedding band. “They took them off when you went into surgery and gave them to me for safekeeping.

 

Picking up the signet ring, Giles placed it on his left pinky. He’d missed its heft on his hand the last several days. Then he took the wedding band from her and inspected it closely. It was beautiful and clearly singularly crafted with an inscription on the inside of the band: _Yours Always, Buffy._

 

He placed the ring back into the palm of her hand and closed her fingers around it. Seeing the hurt look in her eyes, he sought to explain as he gently lifted her chin with his index finger to look at him.

 

“When I remember,” he began, his eyes searching hers for understanding. “Place the ring on my finger.”

 

“And if you don’t?” she asked, unable to hide her disappointment.

 

“And if I don’t…” Taking her left hand in his, he tenderly placed a kiss over the wedding band on her finger. “If I don’t, then allow me the indulgence to ask for your hand. I will wear that ring again. I promise.”


	12. Home

 

Giles couldn’t help but fidget in his seat as they entered the urban sprawl that was London. As always there was congestion as they got off the motorway and made their way through the city, but Buffy navigated the roads like a champ. He was going  _ home _ \- to the house he shared with Buffy, and he was going home to Tommy. His son. The tattoo his heart beat within his chest grew louder and louder the closer they got. He couldn’t wait to meet the boy, but his thoughts were full of doubt.

 

Ever since he’d learned of Tommy, he’d felt a connection to the lad, a need to meet him, to protect him, and an overwhelming desire to just be there with him and for him, but now that that moment was imminent, he was nervous. He wasn’t this boy’s father… well, not in his memories anyway. Of course, in his memories, he wasn’t Buffy’s husband either, and yet, he was hers, body and soul. But he still couldn’t help but worry that he would somehow damage his relationship with his son because he wasn’t who Tommy knew him to be, and he couldn’t help but second guess their decision to return to London without his memories, and he groaned softly at the whole strange notion of it all as he leaned his head against the window, staring at nothing in particular as they progressed towards their Camden house.

 

Buffy reached out and placed a comforting hand on his knee. Giles had practically gone non-verbal twenty minutes outside the city limits. “You’re his daddy, Giles, and he loves you no matter what. It’s going to be fine,” she reassured him with a smile.

 

He gave her a weak smile in return, wishing he could have more confidence regarding this meeting before turning back to watch the scenery go by.

 

It seemed like an eternity, but they finally arrived and found street parking close by. Giles looked at the terraced houses hoping for a bit of familiarity, but found none.

 

“Number 49, that’s us,” Buffy said as she took their bags out of the boot. When they walked through the threshold, she called out, “Hey, we’re home!”

 

Giles’ attention was caught by the thumping coming down the stairs as Xander appeared and he was momentarily shaken. He’d read about how the First’s minion Caleb had blinded his young friend in one eye, but it was still a shock to see him wearing the black eye patch.

 

“Ah, Buffster, Big G, welcome home!” Xander greeted in his usual enthusiastic way, giving each a hug. “How are you guys?”

 

“You mean other than falling off a roof, breaking my wrist, experiencing my 9000 th case of head trauma,  _ and _ suffering from amnesia?” Giles asked dryly, his tone light and his eyes conveying warmth.

 

“Ha ha, the man still thinks he’s funny, Buff,” Xander joked.

 

Buffy had moved into the kitchen to get a bottle of water from the fridge. “It’s that self-deprecating, British, dry humor. Just nod and smile,” she called to her friend.

 

“The usual protocol,” Xander stated lightly, clapping Giles on the shoulder.

 

“It’s good to see you again,” he replied genuinely.

 

“Yeah, well for me it was just last week, but for you, I am guessing it’s been several months.”

 

Buffy came back in and handed Giles and Xander each a bottle of beer.

 

“Several months with a huge leap into the future. Can’t say I recommend it,” Giles answered. They moved into the lounge, and he took the seat on the sofa next to Buffy while Xander sat down on the chair opposite them.

 

“Anything come back yet?”

 

“Feelings and a few small memories, but nothing really tangible that tells a history. The diaries have helped fill in some gaps and provide clues as to what I was thinking and feeling at the time, but admittedly, I am a few years behind still.”

 

“Man, that’s gotta suck!” Xander empathized. “But it’s just a matter of time before they come back, right?”

 

Giles ducked his head and took a sip of his beer.

 

“So where are Tommy and Willow?” Buffy asked, looking around.

 

“Outside on the roof terrace playing knights and dragons. We thought to give you some time to get acclimated, so we told him you were coming home later today.”

 

She looked at Giles and then back to Xander. “Good plan.”

 

“Well, I am going to take those bags upstairs and then work on that… thing… that needs working on… for work,” he petered out lamely, clearly planning to give them space.

 

“Thanks, Xand,” Buffy said, getting up to give him a hug before he left the room.

 

Giles rose and quickly caught up with him, laying a hand on his forearm to get his attention. “Thank you, Xander, being here and looking after our son, for being part of his… er… Village.”

 

“It’s no big, Giles, it’s what family does. Besides, that’s one amazing little kiddo you’ve got there. He’s kind of a blast to hang out with,” he replied. “When you are ready, go get reacquainted with your son.” He then ascended the stairs and out of sight.

 

Buffy came up behind Giles and wrapped her arms around him. He twisted his body and brought her around to face him, hugging her close.

 

“How are you?” she asked.

 

Giles looked up the staircase with some trepidation. “Absolutely terrified,” he admitted. How could meeting a three-year-old inspire such fear in him? His first patrol as a young Watcher In Training hadn’t been so nerve wracking. “But I am also anxious to meet him and see what he is like in person.”

 

Buffy took his good hand in hers and led him to the roof terrace.

 

Standing quietly in the doorway, Giles wasn’t sure what to expect, but he found Willow and Tommy playing an utterly charming make believe game about a knight and his dragon friend who were on quest to find the king’s magic sword which had been stolen by an evil troll. Willow was on all fours with Tommy riding on her back.

 

When the little boy spied his father, he dismounted his dragon steed and yelled, “Daddy!” He ran as swiftly as his little legs could carry him and Giles picked him up when Tommy threw himself into his arms, hugging him close. He closed his eyes and buried his face into the boy’s neck, as he struggled to hold his emotions at bay. Holding his son in his arms calmed all those inner fears in an instant.

 

God, how he wished his memories would return! 

 

“Daddy, Daddy, I missed you so much! Are you feeling better?” Tommy asked, squirming to loosen his father’s hold. “Oh, you’ve got bad boo-boos,” he said pointing to the dressing on the side of Giles’s head and then the cast on his right arm. “Do they hurt? You’re crying.”

 

“I am only crying because I am happy to see you,” he answered. “I missed you too!” Giles took him over to one of the garden chairs and sat down, realizing the inherent truth in that statement. He had indeed missed Tommy and placed a soft kiss on his son’s tawny head. “Tell me how have you been? What have you been doing this week?”

 

“Uncle Xander and Auntie Willow took me the rock wall and I climbed all the way to the top!” he boasted.

 

“You did?” he asked and Tommy nodded enthusiastically. Giles quickly craned his neck to find Auntie Willow for an explanation.

 

Willow stood next to Buffy, wringing her hands at the stern look her friend gave her. “There’s a kid’s gym over by the park. They, uh, have all sorts of things to do there, and he was in the climbing harness. It’s all legit and very safe,” she explained a little defensively. “And he was fast too! Setting a record for the 5 and unders,” she added with a note of defiance and pride.

 

Giles relaxed and looked back down at Tommy, who was expectantly gazing up at him with his dark green eyes. “Look at you! What a brave and clever little spider monkey you are!” he praised. “Will you do it again and show me?”

 

Buffy intently watched the interaction between father and son and her heart leapt into her throat when Giles called Tommy a spider monkey. He’d originally started calling him that by the way he’d clung to them when he was an infant, but when Tommy started climbing as a baby, the moniker stuck, often being shortened to just monkey. 

 

“He remembered,” she whispered to Willow, a tear spilling over her lashes and she quickly wiped it away.

 

Willow squeezed her other hand in support. “Go be with them,” she whispered back. “I’ll find Xander and we’ll let ourselves out. Call me tomorrow?”

 

“Yeah, I will. Thanks, again for everything!” she answered, giving her best friend a hug before heading over to her husband and son.

 

—————

 

Later that evening, after a wonderful day of playing and reconnecting with Tommy and well after they had tucked the little lad in bed, Buffy found Giles sitting in his office staring at several photos he’d found around the house and brought to his desk to study. He’d laughed at the one of him and the gang all standing in front of Big Ben pulling all sorts of faces. Then there was the candid photo of him and Buffy dancing at their wedding. She was so beautiful in her sleek white wedding gown and they were both so happy, looking at one another with such adoration. The one he currently held in his hand was one of his mother holding Tommy at perhaps six months of age, his mother looking on her grandson with such pride as he grinned back behind a mouth full of fingers.

 

“Everything alright?” she asked as she knocked softly on the door to alert him of her presence.

 

“Hmm?” he answered, looking up and placing the photo down on the desk. “Oh, uh, yes. It’s just been quite an emotional day.”

 

Buffy sat herself down in his lap and looked at the photo. “That’s always been one of my favorite pictures.”

 

“I am so pleased that she was able to experience being a grandmother to Tommy,” he said quietly.

 

Circling her arms around his neck, Buffy stated, “He made her so happy. When he was a baby, she’d sit with him for hours talking to him, telling him stories, and singing to him, and he’d just sit there with her, enchanted by it all. Even when he got to be all mobile and active, he’d sit there happily with his Nan.”

 

Giles sighed wistfully. “Speaking of Tommy, he seems happy to have us home.”

 

“Very much so, and you were great with him, but then you always are,” she said, placing a tender kiss on his lips. “You’re the perfect father. I love you.”

 

He held her to him. “I love you, too,” he breathed as he rested his head into the crook of her shoulder.

 

“I don’t know if you realize it or not, but you had a memory come back this afternoon,” she said after a few minutes.

 

“I did?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

 

“Yeah. You’ve always called Tommy a spider monkey. It started a few days after we brought him home because of the way he used to cling to us when we held him. Of course it still fits now that he is so active and loves to climb.”

 

He knew he should celebrate the small victories, but he couldn’t help but feel disheartened. If the little memories were to come trickling in like this, then it was going to be a long, long time before he remembered anything of note.

 

“What if this is our new normal? The diaries only provide me with the facts… with glimpses into what I was thinking and feeling at the time, but they don’t...” He sat back in his chair to give them some distance. “We haven’t really discussed it, but what if I don’t get those memories back? I mean why would I remember that you like the Sichuan beef from a certain restaurant or… or a silly term of endearment, and not remember that a whole town got swallowed up by a crater and closing a literal mouth to hell, or proposing to you, or… or Tommy’s birth for Christ’s sake? Was I even there?”

 

“Of course you were! But look, I don’t know why you are recovering the memories this way, Giles,” Buffy replied. “If you don’t get the rest of them back, then we just go on making new ones, and anything you want to know or need to know that isn’t clear in the diaries or you just want to know more about, just ask. If you don’t feel comfortable asking me, then ask Xander or Willow or Dawn or anyone who was around during that time. But, sweetie, you have to give your brain time to heal. It’s only been a week and you  _ have _ remembered things, you just didn’t know they were memories. Clearly they weren’t huge scenes and in technicolor, but that means you  _ are _ healing and things  _ are _ coming back to you,” she reassured him.

 

“I don’t deserve you,” Giles sighed as he hugged her close.

 

“Pshaw!” Buffy dismissed before kissing his forehead. “You’re just tired. It’s been a crazy, emotional week. Put the pictures away, and leave the diaries for later. Tonight we are going to sleep in our bed for as long as we can before a certain three-year-old comes in and wakes us up and demands cuddles and breakfast. Then we are going to get ready for the day and take our wild monkey over to the park for a family picnic and day out.”

 

“Sounds heavenly.”

 

She rose and grabbed his left hand, pulling him upright before leading him up to their room. On their way, they stopped by Tommy’s room to check on him. He’d kicked off his blanket and was sleeping perpendicular to his bed, his feet dangling over the edge.

 

Giles chuckled softly and went in to tuck Tommy back into bed properly. After righting his son and pulling up the sheet and blanket to cover him, he placed a kiss on top of Tommy’s mop of blond hair. “Sweet dreams, lad,” he whispered before joining Buffy back out in the hall.

 

Wrapping her arms around him, she sighed happily. “I love watching you with him.”

 

“Come on, let’s go to bed.” He smiled and kissed her nose. 

 

“Will you hold me all night?”

 

“Always,” he answered, leaning against the doorframe and caressing her cheek with the back of his fingers. Buffy raised her head and kissed him softly before leading them to their room.

 

Later, in the dark and snug between the crisps sheets, Giles spooned Buffy to him, the fingers of her left hand entwined in his as they rested against her pregnant belly. He was quiet, but his breathing pattern indicated that he wasn’t asleep and she knew he was running through the events of the day in his head.

 

“Are you-?”

 

“Everything is fine,” he reassured her as he brushed his lips against the nape of her neck. “Better than fine. Our son is sleeping soundly in the other room and I am holding my wife in my arms.”

 

Buffy smiled. “Did I ever mention that you are the perfect husband?”

 

“Only because I have the perfect wife.”

 

“You are so sappy,” she laughed as he lightly stroked their fingers against her abdomen.

 

“Perhaps so, but it is the truth,” he stated. “Thank you for enduring this… this particular trial and putting up with my… crankiness. I can only imagine how difficult it was for you, having to worry about me and being separated from Tommy.”

 

She turned in his arms to face him. “I love you, Giles. Not gonna lie, it’s been hard, but we’ve been through worse. Just… don’t scare me like that again, okay?”

 

“I’ll try not to. We’ll just phone Xander when we need any roof maintenance done.”

 

“We’ll just call a handyman. We can’t have the soon-to-be Head Watcher endangering himself on our roof. I hear the footing is quite suspect up there,” she said, chuckling softly as she placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “Now let’s get some sleep.”

 

“Buffy?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I do love you so.”

 

She smiled contentedly and snuggled back into his embrace, allowing sleep to overtake her.


	13. Epilogue

 

Giles picked Tommy up out of the path of the movers as they carried his desk and bookcases into his new office in the farmhouse. “Come on, young man, let’s find a safer place for you to play,” he said as he deposited him on the couch in the lounge.

 

“There  _ is _ nowhere to play, Daddy. They are in my new room too,” Tommy complained, his shoulders hunched in frustration as he sat next to his father. “I  _ liked _ my old room.”

 

“But now you have a castle bunk bed and all your things are here,” Giles pointed out. “This is our home now.”

 

Tommy shrugged and pulled at a thread on the hem of his shirt. “Doesn’t feel like  _ home _ .”

 

Two months ago, Giles had felt the same. He’d returned from hospital to a house that should have been familiar, but it had been gutted, added on to, and redecorated in a way that made the place foreign. Tommy, of course, had no such previous associations, and really had been too young to remember his previous visits when his parents and Xander started working on the renovations. Not that Giles remembered those times either.

 

In those two months, he did have some of his memories come back to him. Willow’s apocalypse had been particularly harrowing, as had the war with the First Evil, and while he had been somewhat prepared for those memories, unfortunately reliving them in full technicolor and surround sound one evening had come as quite a shock. But he had also recovered some good memories, happy memories such as reuniting with his mother when he had finally returned to England after Sunnydale imploded and when Tommy took his first steps.

 

Dr Gibson had stated that his recovery was following a normal path, and that he had been pleased with his progress thus far, however, it frustrated Giles no end that there were still glaring holes in his memory. 

 

“It will,” he told his son. “We just have to give ourselves time to get used to things. Do you think you can do that for me?”

 

Tommy thought for a second and then nodded before crawling into his father’s lap. Giles held his son to him, remembering how his mother would comfort him as a little boy every time he was upset about something. He missed his mum dearly. Despite the recovery of a few memories, his mind still recognized her as living and it was hard to reconcile that with what he knew to be the facts.

 

“That was the last of ‘em, Mrs Giles,” the head crewman said to Buffy as they came down the stairs.

 

“Thank you,” she answered, taking paperwork from him to sign.

 

“Mummy!” Tommy called as he jumped off his father’s lap to greet her.

 

Buffy picked him up after she finished with movers. “You are getting to be such a big boy,” she said as she awkwardly shifted him around her swollen belly to balance him on her hip.

 

“I have to be big to be a big brother,” Tommy answered logically.

 

“You are going to be the  _ best _ big brother!” Buffy declared nuzzling her nose against his and he beamed at her praise.

 

When the moving truck turned off the drive and onto the main road, Giles and Buffy looked at one another and Buffy nodded.

 

“Come on, lad, I want to show you something.”

 

Tommy’s curiosity got the better of him and he loosened his grip as Buffy set him down on the ground. “Where, Daddy?” he asked.

 

“In the stables.”

 

“What is it? Did you get a horsey?”

 

“Wait and see, Monkey,” Buffy laughed.

 

Tommy started running towards the stables and Giles took Buffy’s hand as they walked quickly after their young son. When he entered the building he yelled, “I don’t see any horses!”

 

“Shhhh, son, there are no horses right now,” he said as he crossed the threshold and turned on the lights.

 

Buffy took Tommy’s hand and they walked down to the third stall. In the corner was a laundry basket with some blankets wadded up in it and nestled within was a silver tabby cat surrounded by several sleeping silver and ginger kittens. Tommy looked up at his parents.

 

“Let’s have a look, shall we?” Giles asked softly and Tommy nodded.

 

They didn’t get too close so as not to frighten the mama cat.

 

“We have cats?” Tommy asked, his voice a hush of what it was when he walked into the stables.

 

“She’s our barn cat,” Buffy said with a smile. “I’ve seen her around from time to time, but I found her in here last weekend when Daddy and I came back to get things ready for the movers. She must’ve had the kittens earlier this week.”

 

“Do you want to help me take care of them?” Giles asked and Tommy nodded and smiled widely. “She needs fresh water and some food.”

 

Buffy watched as Giles showed Tommy where the food was kept, how much to put into the bowl, and where to place it without getting to close to mama cat and her babies. Tommy then picked up the water bowl, took it over to the spigot and tried to turn it on, but he wasn’t quite strong enough. Giles helped him and the little boy carried the bowl as carefully as he could back to the spot next to the food bowl. He spilled a little along the way, but it wasn’t significant.

 

“Well done, Tommy!” Giles praised. “We need to leave them alone now. She won’t leave her babies to eat or drink until we are gone.”

 

“Can we do this everyday?”

 

“Of course,” Buffy stated. “Mama cat is going to need some help until the kittens are old enough to fend for themselves.”

 

Tommy smiled brightly. “Daddy?”

 

“Yes, son?” he asked crouching down to Tommy’s level.

 

“I like it here, but I still miss Uncle Xander and Auntie Willow.”

 

“Me too, but we will still see each other and we will visit them and they will visit us.”

 

“And we can show them the kitties.”

 

“And we can show them the kitties,” Giles confirmed.

 

—————

 

After dinner that evening, Giles was looking for his physio band so that he could do his wrist exercises. “I thought I packed it in the suitcase,” he said with mild irritation as he passed Buffy and Tommy playing a game of Candy Land.

 

“Where did you have it last in the old house?” she asked as her yellow gingerbread man got stuck in the Molasses Swamp. “Oh no!” she said dramatically.

 

Tommy giggled in delight. “You are stuck in the sticky goo until you draw a red card!”

 

Giles groaned. “I had it in my office at the old house,” he answered. “I must’ve left it there and the movers packed it.” He grumbled and headed to his new office, leaving Buffy and Tommy to their game. His right wrist had healed nicely and he went to physical therapy twice a week to strengthen the muscles and regain his flexibility.

 

As he dug through one of the boxes in his office to find the band, he came across a small chest. Pulling it out, he sat down at his desk and opened it. Inside, he found several personal items of sentimental value: his father’s pocket watch, a photograph of him and Ethan laughing and covered in mud at the Glastonbury Festival in the late seventies that was taken by Dierdre as they headed back to their camp, the letter from the Council reinstating him in the program after his “gap years,” his orders sending him to Sunnydale, a protection charm Willow had made for him the first year she’d started practicing magicks (he hadn’t been so sure it would work properly, so he nullified the spell but kept the charm), the tassel from Buffy’s graduation cap that she’d saved and given him after they’d blown up the high school, the first dollar bill he’d made from his first sale at the Magic Box (Anya had made sure to keep it for him and had put it in a small frame for him), and the jelly donut keyring Xander had gotten him for his birthday during that last year at Sunnydale high. He smiled at his sentimentality. 

 

At the bottom of the chest he found a small green knit cap with stars on it. He stared at it a moment, knowing without a doubt that was the cap his mother had knitted for Tommy just weeks before his birth. Suddenly, the memory of him holding his son for the first time came rushing back to him. The emotions accompanying the visual was so strong that he felt the need to sit down because the memories didn’t stop there. Six years of lost memories and their accompanying emotions flooded his mind, completely overwhelming him. Dropping the cap on his desk, he pulled off his glasses and covered his eyes to no avail as he rode out the visual and emotional tide.

 

He didn’t know how long he sat there as he relived the past six years of his life, but he slowly became aware of Buffy’s voice softly calling his name and he lowered his hands and blinked owlishly at her as her face came into focus, his face wet from the tears he had shed. Tears of sadness, joy, and relief.

 

“Giles?” she asked, her concern evident in her tone.

 

Swallowing thickly, he caressed her cheek and he said, “I remember.”

 

“What did you remember?”

 

He sighed softly and answered, “Everything. I remember it all.”

 

“Really?” He nodded and she kissed him softly. “How do you know they are all there?”

 

He shook his head. “I-I just know. I can’t explain it, but… they’re there. All of them.” His eyes met hers in wonder. “I  _ was _ there… at Tommy’s birth! You didn’t swear at me once.”

 

Buffy laughed, her heart dancing with joy. “No I didn’t, but I make no promises this time around!”

 

Giles let out a watery laugh in response and looked down at her hand on his knee.

 

“Are you okay?” she asked.

 

“Yes, just… a tad overcome,” Giles replied, pulling out his handkerchief and drying his eyes and cheeks.

 

Buffy lovingly kissed his forehead. “Should I make some tea, Mr Understatement?” she asked teasingly, although the offer was genuine.

 

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

 

Buffy rose from her kneeling position before him, and Tommy rushed to him, hugging him desperately. “Daddy?” 

 

Giles reached for the boy, picked him up, and hugged him close, replaying the first memory of him holding him in his mind, swaddled in a hospital issued blanket and wearing the green cap with white stars. “I love you, Tommy,” he whispered.

 

Tommy grinned happily. “I love you too, Daddy. Did you hurt yourself again?”

 

Chuckling, he answered, “No. No, I just remembered some important things.”

 

“Sad things?”

 

“And happy things.”

 

Tommy pulled back and looked inquisitively at his father before saying, “It’s okay to cry, Daddy.”

 

“It is,” Giles agreed. “Even when you are so very, very happy.”

 

“I laugh when I am happy,” his son said matter-of-factly.

 

“Yes, you do,” Giles answered. Tommy’s giggles had always made his heart soar.

 

They joined Buffy in the kitchen. She poured the tea into a cup for him before returning to the stove to finish making hot cocoa. When it was ready, she poured some of the cocoa into an espresso cup for Tommy and the rest into a regular sized mug for her, adding couple of small marshmallows to each. Giles produced a packet of Jaffa Cakes Giles and the three of them sat down at the table.

 

When Tommy reached for a third Jaffa Cake, Buffy shook her head and said, “That’s enough for you, young man, it’s time to get cleaned up for bed.”

 

“Mummy!” he protested.

 

“Listen to your mother,” Giles said firmly.

 

Tommy slouched his shoulders in disappointment. “Okay,” he finally agreed. 

 

Giles moved to get up, but Buffy shook her head. “I’ll take care of him tonight.”

 

“I’ll tidy up here then.” Kissing Tommy’s head, he said, “Goodnight, son, sleep well,”

 

“Night night, Daddy,” he answered.

 

Buffy caressed his hand. “I’ll be down after I’ve tucked him in.”

 

After cleaning up, Giles went back into his office and returned the items to their place in the memory chest. He held onto the little cap though. Tommy had worn it frequently during his first three months until the weather had turned warm. After that, Buffy had put it away in his chest of drawers only finding it again when she was packing up Tommy’s old clothes to pass onto a pregnant friend at the office shortly after Giles’ mother had passed away. She had made sure to give it to Giles, knowing he’d want to keep it.

 

He remembered he had carried the cap on his person for a long time afterward. When Buffy had come to him to tell him she was pregnant again, Giles had taken the talisman out of his pocket and placed it in the chest to keep it safe until the birth of their second child. Now he ran his thumb over one of white stars and silently thanked his mother before putting the cap back in the chest and placing it on the bookcase nearest his desk. 

 

It was late when he finally looked at the clock. Buffy hadn’t come back downstairs, so he locked up the house, turned off the lights, and went in search of her, finding her upstairs asleep on Tommy’s bed. Tommy was curled into her side. He smiled at the picture, cherishing the moment, before placing a hand on Buffy’s shoulder and gently waking her.

 

“Time for bed, love,” he said, when she opened her eyes.

 

Quietly she extracted herself from her son’s embrace and Giles helped her up. He turned out the light and made sure Tommy’s night light was working properly. He fully expected to have a little visitor join them in a few hours after finding himself alone in a new bed and in a new room all by himself. And that was fine.

 

He found Buffy sitting on the bed with a serene smile on her face.

 

“What?” he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

 

“Everything okay?”

 

“Very okay,” he assured her as he sat next to her on the bed. Reaching over to take her hands in his, he asked, “Buffy, do you still have my wedding ring?”

 

She turned and smiled radiantly at him and reached inside her pocket. She’d carried it with her every day since his accident. “Of course I do,” she replied, holding it up between her forefinger and thumb.

 

“Would you do me the honor?” he asked, spreading his fingers out for her.

 

Buffy slid the ring onto his finger, her eyes locking with his. “I love you.”

 

Leaning into her, Giles kissed her softly. “And I you,” he replied, looking down at the token of their promise to one another, gleaming in the soft light of their bedroom. “Thank you for…  _ everything. _ ”

 

True to his father’s prediction, Tommy made his way into the room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Mummy, why did you leave?” he asked her plaintively, his lower lip trembling in its pout.

 

Buffy picked Tommy up and holding him to her on her lap. “Because it is Mummy and Daddy’s bedtime now and we sleep here.”

 

“I didn’t want you to go,” he said, snuffling and wiping his nose on his sleeve, before looking down at the floor. “I’m scared,” he admitted.

 

Giles reached over and caressed Tommy’s head. “Sometimes the bravest thing we can do is admit we are scared,” he replied with reassurance. He looked up at his wife in silent communication and when she gave him a nod, he turned back to his son and suggested, “Why don’t you climb under the covers here and we’ll have a sleepover tonight.”

 

Tommy smiled up at him and scooted up the middle of the bed and crawled under the duvet, making himself comfortable, and easily fell back asleep after his parents flanked him on either side.

 

Giles smile down at his sleeping son. “Long day,” he murmured.

 

“Yeah, it has been, but a good one,” she answered in a hush. “After everything, we’re finally here.”

 

After everything. After their Callings, after the personal hardships, after all the apocalypses and the destruction of Sunnydale, after the rebuilding of the Council and the reconnection that came naturally to them, after marriage, the birth of their first born and in the anticipation of welcoming their second child, they were finally home.

 

“Sleep, Giles,” Buffy whispered.

 

“I thought you had fallen asleep,” he whispered back.

 

“Almost. Stop thinking so loudly, sheesh.”

 

He smiled. “Cheeky girl.”

 

“Giles?” she asked after a few moments.

 

“Yes?”

 

Her green gaze met his in the darkness. “I am glad you got your memories back,” she said. “I know how frustrating that was for you, but, know that if you never did regain one more memory, it wouldn’t have mattered, not to me, because we have each other and our family and we’re making  _ more _ memories together everyday.”

 

“I love you,” he murmured. Placing his hand on her swollen belly, he leaned over their sleeping son and kissed her softly. “I never want to forget this moment, the  _ four _ of us here; and you are right, my love, what matters is right now and the future we are creating for our family.”

 

Buffy’s smile was interrupted by a yawn.

 

He chuckled softly. “Get some rest now. Our little spider monkey likes his early mornings.”

 

“So tough for a pair of night owls like us,” she whispered with a smile.

 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he stated with a happy sigh.

 

“Me neither,” Buffy agreed suppressing another yawn before she caressed Tommy’s head and kissed her husband one more time. “Love you too, Giles,” she whispered as she snuggled down into the duvet.

 

He rolled over onto his back listening to the gentle breathing patterns of his wife and son. The trauma of the past two months had finally ended and he was at peace really knowing and understanding what had transpired during those lost six years. Now he could put the past to rest and focus on his present and his future with his growing family, and that suited him perfectly.


End file.
